Babblings in Verse Without Plan or Purpose

found this old poem that I had written in my SYBA..

"She's already twenty-one now..how long are you going to wait?
Don't think she'll get a husband when she is eighty-eight.
At twenty-one she is not small anymore.
What with Akash Kapoor and that Muslim fellow,
Hovering around her like bees..
Then don't say I didn't tell you so.

My beti is one in a million,
And she'll marry someone, one in a billion.
But you, you are not bothered.
You will never get out of the gate.
It is all the fruits of my karma,
All the games of Fate, oh my poor fate!"

Says Mr Seth, hiding behind his newspaper and tea
"I know dear, life is difficult for you.
What with a husband like me,
and a senseless daughter too.
But patience, patience, my sugar cake,
Lets wait sometime, before the search for a groom we undertake.
What with India and our dearest friend, Pakistan,
exhibiting each other's military prowess,
We can easily slip out of this marriage mess."

Sarita, twenty-one going on eighty eight, lost in contemplation,
Her philosophy text open to Carvaka Hedonism.
The mysteries of the universe were getting too much for her,
Her old flirting tactics were losing their lustre.
Akash had not called her in days,
And Firoz, why in heaven's name was he being so vague?

But there was a silver lining in the sky -
A new family had moved into Flat 303
And she had had the chance to spy
The most gorgeous guy, this side of the Arabian Sea.

Sigh..Life is not so bad after all,
And Hedonism still rules
And off we go all trim and tall,
to sharpen the hedonistic tools.

But the world must go on, without plan or purpose,
and wives ultimately win.
From marriage there is no escape.
(When has there ever been?)

So Sarita gets married to a suitable boy,
A doctor from a good family.
She frets a little for her earlier toys,
but soon, is settled quite happily.

Nine months pass in the blink of an eye,
Colors - red, blue and grey.
And lo! You can hear the triplets cry,
Healthy girls all of them we are happy to say.
"How wonderful," cries grandmother, Mrs Seth,
"Girls are a blessing to humanity!
Now I can plan their wedding date!"

-SWATI ALI