In their town
the impoverished street hawkers
mill around hawking their wares
In ill fitting clothes, unwashed and forlorn
***** hands and mud splattered

they scream and call out their wares
extolling false merits or disparages
they seek attention, needing a sale
elementary PR agent with small lives
the pitiful deprives  

desperate to sell to those blessed
those that don't need to hawk
or share their slums
or their sufferings and pain
Those perfumed Raj from up there

The sad street hawkers
the town criers who cry for attention
muddy people with muddy ways
shouting dutifully, crying inwardly
hating their lives, hating everything

I want to buy some sooji *****
but Kanta said, how can you buy their wares
when you have a gourmet chef indoors
These ***** people only know and deal in dirt
Its their way of life, its all they know!