Panditji's office is on the foothpath, <br />With two stray dogs, always on guard. <br />He makes Pan and and offers solid Gyaan. <br />His customers are a merry lot, <br />The range from your mad poet to the Stock market boss, <br />In the middle are sandwiched the laborers who build the Naval Dry Dock. <br />Panditji knows what was the last closing of Sensex, what was the Range bound Nifty, <br />Which Stocks are punters molls, which are fundamental trolls, <br />What was gold yesterday, and when will it turn into silver today, <br />Why is the GDP poor, when will the FDI go for cover. <br />I always get into a romantic mood when I hear pandit jee's tune, <br />Mumbai allow me to bite that black mole, <br />You flaunt on your fresh juicy red lips my dear moll.<br /><br />Hardik Vaidya<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/pandit-jee-3/
