A Pain In The Neck-2

A sequel to my last poem, and this time its for all the 'well wishing' aunties who lose sleep over girls of 'marriageable age' being single.


Out of the blue pops up these things,
You know one of those dreaded weddings.

'Everybody is going' it is proclaimed,
If you refuse, for life you shall be maimed.

The menu sounds luring, but going there how I dread,
Would rather be home and have soup and bread.

For the saree clad hyenas await my arrival
Facing them, by God, I feel suicidal.

Tonight, I know, I shall be their prey,
They are going to savour me like a souffle.

As I enter, each one has her share,
In giving me that knee trembling stare.

Please aunties, don't give me those looks,
I know I do not belong in your good books.

To a prospective mother in law I am dragged,
And made to listen to all that is bragged.

Sheepishly she asks, "Waat is your habbie"?
Well, I enjoy swearing in English, Hindi and Punjabi (inner voice)

That's what I am tempted to answer,
Instead, I say I am a part time dancer.

Horror engulfs the makeup smeared faces,
Oh how I enjoy spotting those anger traces.

At the table for me a few 'plans' are drawn,
While I blissfully hog all that I can lay my hands on.

A Pain In The Neck-1

Your unfazed intent glare,
makes me wonder if I am a specie so rare.
You check my hands and feet and hair, 
And keep giving me that long hard stare.


You do justice to the snacks served,
And receive more hospitality than you deserved.


I reckon you wanted,


A bahu all tall and slim and fair,
Of other things, I am sure you may not care.
I certainly do not fit your mould,
A 'chand ka tukda' you are looking for I am told.


But my dear old lady,


Did you notice your son's wide waistline,
Or perhaps that reclining hairline?
Won't they make an odd pair?
A princess and a huge bear.


You brag and brag but,


His MS does not impress me,
Nor does that Rs. 10 lakh per annu, you see.
With your son's pea sized brain,
All that might as well go down the drain.


You make me stand and check my height,
You do want to know if I am on a diet.


I also wish to show you,


How rude my tongue can get
It would leave your mouth gaping, I bet.


But because I am told I am a "khandani girl",


Like a mannequin, I sit and smile
And stare down all the while.
Wondering if the one in Che's beret
Would ever crash into my life's foray.....



written in a lighter vein :D