The Indian men go well with women

a poem by Jayati

Indian man gets his women
The reason for many to be jealous of him
He worships his mom dotes on his family;
To fetch her medicine will run alley gully
whenever down, sick from an upset belly.
With his first income, the pocket money
he earns
Younger or older, his sister he adorns;
Who’s still at home waiting for spring;
Her time to come, as and when
she decides, on a new life
with her groom.
The man
gentle responsible
makes all attempts
to know what the woman feels.
The young match in his nuptial clothes
Breathtakingly handsome
Beautiful in white;
Silk dhoti kurta, garland traditional
The charming man irresistible
to shun. Lover, provider, his life’s sacrifices unsung;
Understands protects, guides and chide, he can.
His wife, a busy ant
he never forgets to lend his hand
or find someone if he can’t.
The father, the brother, the partner and son
knows how to give, in life concerned.
Carrying his burden he toils and earn;
Call him a donkey, a mule, he smiles;
“That’s your problem, buddy, not mine.”
Symbol iron will; rustic or urban-
Example forging ahead humble
The patient half naked
fakir the father of a nation assassinated;
uttered; “Hay Ram”
The adaptable Indian man whether
“Amar Akbar Anthony, Rajeev Sajid Sam”
Fit well into the clothes he wears sweeper or “Bhagwan”
It’s but normal he’s unable to escape the envy of the world.
“Brahma Vishnu Shiva-Mahaishwaram,” man meditating through his work.