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Confetti
S. Nihal Singh
Vote for legs
An Indian
in a Paris
art gallery is like
a needle in a haystack.
In the aggressively
modern Centre Pompidou,
a pot-bellied Indian
was doing the rounds, bored.
The reason for his presence
soon appeared:
the eager beaver wife who
had dragged him along.
He stuck out like a
sore thumb in the
usual mix of
tourist packs and connoisseurs.
Japanese groups
were glued to the commentary machines,
flagging off paintings,
one at a time.
The Americans
came in their distressing
holiday gear
"doing" Pompidou.
Alas, Indians prefer
the shopping arcades
or the night spots
displaying legs.
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