Weddings

A parody poem on the typical wedding scene in India

Venue

It was once a palace they say,

So we gave our guests a three night stay.

The décor was sculpted from literal ice,

Was it extravagant and grandiose?

Enough to make people stare and marvel twice.

And did it cost a heavy price?

Well, safe to say, now our bank balance doesn’t feel so nice

Date

A suitable date needs to be decided

So we consult an astrologer and are guided

by planets and stars that float light years away.

Turns out, the only auspicious day is a Tuesday

But then guests can’t make it to the three night stay

So Pay an extra 100, the astrologer says

And the stars will ensure the weekend becomes your wedding day

Itinerary

The baarat arrives after an hour of delay

Presenting a 50 minute dance sequence in front of the hotel gateway

With pomp and show the ceremonies commence

Busy with the buffet, guests gaze at the proceedings

with interest that is pretense.

Then the bride and groom sit on throne like chairs

Acting as a selfie booth for dolled up relatives that come in pairs.

Smiles are feigned

And the couple is chained

by societal expectations

that strain their marital unification.

published at @inksword.magazine on Instagram

© @_theponderingkitten_

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Every Tuesday Night

I am waiting in a restaurant and the atmosphere is precisely what I witness every Tuesday night, mundane with a hint of gloom, characteristic of this decades old establishment, located at the far end of a scarcely populated street. Only one of the rickety old tables is occupied by any customers, a family of three and their presence adds to the dreary atmosphere of the restaurant.The silence amongst them filled only by the dull clink of pots coming from the kitchen, the chef presumably preparing whatever it is that the family ordered. From the sultry expressions on each of their faces it seems to me that they had a little argument at home and hence decided to eat out at the nearest place to break the tension hanging in the air around them.But this dismal ambience was soon broken, for the clock struck nine and the sound of a door swinging fell upon my ears and in walked the one reason I have been visiting this restaurant every Tuesday night.My younger sister.Now in the 22nd year of her life, she looks cheerful as always. She orders an ice cream sundae and sits across of me. I watch her eat the sundae, just like we used to every Tuesday before my demise 5 years ago. A single tear rolls down her eye and she wipes it away with a bittersweet smile, reminiscing all the memories we made together. Out of the corner of my eye I see the family of three finally talking to each other, the veil of tension thinning amongst them and I like to believe it is because of my little sister’s presence brightening the world of others just as she does to mine. I watch her as she finishes the sundae licking the last bit of chocolate, a habit I have seen ever since we were little kids and then she stands up to leave. I smile wistfully at her retreating form and prepare myself to return amongst the dead. After all, lost souls like me are granted a mere few minutes every week to roam amongst the living and I spend every second of this time looking at her, my dear little sister.

My younger sister.Now in the 22nd year of her life, she looks cheerful as always. She orders an ice cream sundae and sits across of me. I watch her eat the sundae, just like we used to every Tuesday before my demise 5 years ago. A single tear rolls down her eye and she wipes it away with a bittersweet smile, reminiscing all the memories we made together. Out of the corner of my eye I see the family of three finally talking to each other, the veil of tension thinning amongst them and I like to believe it is because of my little sister’s presence brightening the world of others just as she does to mine. I watch her as she finishes the sundae licking the last bit of chocolate, a habit I have seen ever since we were little kids and then she stands up to leave. I smile wistfully at her retreating form and prepare myself to return amongst the dead. After all, lost souls like me are granted a mere few minutes every week to roam amongst the living and I spend every second of this time looking at her, my dear little sister.

The silence amongst them filled only by the dull clink of pots coming from the kitchen, the chef presumably preparing whatever it is that the family ordered. From the sultry expressions on each of their faces it seems to me that they had a little argument at home and hence decided to eat out at the nearest place to break the tension hanging in the air around them.

But this dismal ambience was soon broken, for the clock struck nine and the sound of a door swinging fell upon my ears and in walked the one reason I have been visiting this restaurant every Tuesday night.

My younger sister.

Now in the 22nd year of her life, she looks cheerful as always. She orders an ice cream sundae and sits across of me. I watch her eat the sundae, just like we used to every Tuesday before my demise 5 years ago. A single tear rolls down her eye and she wipes it away with a bittersweet smile, reminiscing all the memories we made together.

Out of the corner of my eye I see the family of three finally talking to each other, the veil of tension thinning amongst them and I like to believe it is because of my little sister’s presence brightening the world of others just as she does to mine.

I watch her as she finishes the sundae licking the last bit of chocolate, a habit I have seen ever since we were little kids and then she stands up to leave. I smile wistfully at her retreating form and prepare myself to return amongst the dead. After all, lost souls like me are granted a mere few minutes every week to roam amongst the living and I spend every second of this time looking at her, my dear little sister.

A New Year’s Eve

It’s half past 11 now and the night is younger than it has ever been  in the past 364 days. There’s a light buzz in the atmosphere as if someone has sprinked electric energy ino the air . It is coupled with a whiff of anticipation and an inexplicable excitement that seems to be flowing through everyone’s veins.

There’s a couple of them flailing their limbs around in an elaborate sequence, dabcing is what they call it. They look ridiculous but indefintely happy.
A few seem to be playing a game of who can hug the most people before 12am. No one seems to be complaining even though those are sloppy displays of affection.

And I am leaning against an isolated corner, it’s  a good vantage point to observe, not so much if you want to participate in the celebrations.

My job  is to observe.

It’s a fascinating sight, all these people looking forward to the next 15 minutes as if it is a completely new begining when in reality half of them will be too hungover to get out of bed till noon.

I mean sure it can be an utterly new begining but they don’t know this, humans can’t reset themselves.

There’s a ringing sound just then, only audible to my ears.
It’s a call from the mothership,
‘shall we initiate memory reset?’

‘No. They don’t need it.
What these intriguing creatures do need are their experiences, good and bad. They seem to carry hope for a better tommorrow even though most seemed to be morbid about 2017.
Let’s leave these complex beings  to survive at their own devices.’

For now.

___________________________

A/N 

🌺HAPPY 2018 EVERYONE🌺