I consider you to be Indian until you write a poem, and I know that is kind of a joke, but it kind of isn't.
I Am not dot. I am Not a Feather. Get out of my country. Fuck off.
(not directed at you).
I beg you dear saar Please do not redeem that card Life in India by far Is hot, smelly, crowded and hard Please to be sending Me an H1B visa Your registers I vill be tending Please
!
You're too kind. I provide you with the poetic equivalent of shitting in the street and all you responded with was a picture of a partially filled trash bin. A trash bin that is still cleaner than anywhere in India.