Go to the market quickly my wife said.
Why?
You have forgot to bring the very gold chain
She reminded with a tension.
Sorry…I call my brother and order
As it was about to come the grooms party
For the oriental traditional blessing ceremony
Of the marriage between my daughter and the
Neighboring friend's son;
Next I go to the nearby grocer to fetch the eggs
Which also seemed may be less in number.
Everything is ready…
We send a messenger to my friend's house
To start the journey …
They come …we produce our bride
Which was our tall and beautiful doll made of mud
By us…. And her sari was made by my mother's best
Torn sari /garment.
Today I become nostalgic at my school having a class in five
I remember what the terms and conditions we would set
To assume our dolls as our family members and we
The children the fathers and mothers and guardians to
Control our children dolls….
Now we write poetry or so called poems or verses;
What a metaphor!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Verses with the muse life! Life is all that brings about Poetry. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.