The wife can be so much critical and complex,
My Bengali wife,
So plotting and conspiring,
Always whispering and poking
My own against me.
Her nature can be understood as thus,
She is a Bengali
And I a Hindustani,
Her father and mother own
But my father and mother
For to be dumped,
What a thinking!
To complain and criticize unnecessarily
Her nature
Against loadshedding,
Her life a life on medicines,
Unable to digest,
But she will omlette, eggs, fish and meat
Almost daily,
Who will make her understand?
To scold, reprimand and hide without rhyme and reason
Her short-temperament,
A sign of small mind,
Very, very low and mean,
As a Bengali she is clean
But I a Bihari unclean.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem