Sunday, April 1, 2012

That Last Night

Hello! My name is Mister Teeju,
And my age is fifty plus two,
Happy life I have... says who?
Let me tell you what is true,

My wife’s name is Miss Tippani,
Pretty woman, soft voice, said many,
She’s a lovely housewife, unlike any,
Even though we don’t have enough money,

But the problem… is not really her,
Instead… it’s our damn daughter,

Daughter’s name is Girja,
She is like a lady ninja,

She is 24 years old,
Rude, and very very cold,

Since we survived under financial restriction,
Between us there was a lot of friction,


Ok! So, what happened that last night?
Well, Girja and I had another fight,
And, as usual, I was always right,
But she kept shouting at me inspite,

We had gone together to drop her mom to a train station,
On the way back, Girja asked money for makeup and foundation,
What the hell, I thought… and I said no, in frustration,
She yelled at me; it felt like attending my own cremation,

I shouted back at her, “You rude girl,”
“Just for money, such abuses you hurl?”

“I will not give you anything till you behave,”
“I am your father, and some respect I crave,”

Girja said, "Ha ha ha ha, you a father?”
"You are a miser, live without you I rather"

I got shocked… and shouted, "Okay, I will die",
And she laughed again, seeing me almost cry,
We reached home, and I decided something I had to try,
So, I reached for the rope, it was time to tie,

I decided to commit suicide by hanging myself from the fan,
Not serious, all drama, that's the best I can,
To make Girja realize that she needs to respect the old man,
I came up with a farcical suiciding plan,

I thought… seeing me trying to hang myself, she will hate,
And just when I’m about to, she will shout, “Hey, wait”,

So, I made all arrangements, the fan, the stool, and the rope,
I had to act well, well enough to look someone without any hope,

And when I was ready, I shouted her name,
I knew that now on, things won't be the same,

She entered my room with her usual attitude,
And saw me standing at some altitude,
A rope around my neck, my escape from the feud,
Her expressions changed, she no more looked rude,

She shouted “WAITTTTT”, looked like she really meant,
And trying to look serious, a listening ear I lent,
On my table were a pen and a notepad, toward them she went,
And asked me loudly, “What's the number for our insurance agent?”

I could not control myself; this was not at all fun,
And I shouted… 9-8-7-3-2, five triple one,

She did not write anything, threw the pen and the notepad,
And I thought she finally realized the worth of her dad,

Then, she rushed toward me like an emotional fool,
But when she reached… she kicked the stool.

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This post had been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 26; the 26th Edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. The topic for the month was 'That Last Night'.

There were 27 entries...
...and with 6 votes, I ranked second in the competition. :)


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