Somalingam tells me, “I became old,
Have and educated daughter who came of age;
The plight of poor man is to be told…”
Hardly can control and rage.

A teacher’s my daughter’s first suitor
Who counts the maidens seen last year
A dozen “says his own computer,
Hardly is he sold yet this year.”

As army soldier comes again
Goaded by his termagant mother
Of Bill Gates’ life who aspires to maintain,
Forgetting the Thar or the Himlayan weather.”

This time comes an unemployed
Whose thoughts are all sterilised by
Remained an ex, castrated he,
Discovering the spheres of dowry high.”

Beget no girls on this fake land,”
Whispers the dust in her voice weak,
This globe is solemnised in many a hand
Of grooms greedy, playing hide and seek.”