Indian wedlock

Draped in a sarree

All red and green

And Golden shine bordered lean

A bindi on the forehead perfectly round

You're all on the verge of getting bound.

 

Walk like you're taking a walk on the ramp

The mother of the guy is gonna watch you in the eye

Do you feel proud, or do you feel shy

She'll make a judgement, and wont tell you why

 

Walk like a cat, all sleek and slender

If her foot goes amidst yours, its gonna be a blunder

Cant look up, go tea you bring

Clear your throat, she might ask you to sing

 

She'll probably say "Stand up and turn"

Who cares, if you even have a stroke or a burn

The guy is anyway such a loser you'll know

He wont open his mouth, its all the mommy's show.

 

I'll marry the girl my mommy picks

I'll marry the girl, the indian girl

Mommys girl is not that chick

That chick can be left for another whirl

 

No, she's not slim enough

Maybe not that fair you know

Thats what you're going to hear soon

That's why you had all that show

 

Of singing and turning 

And walking and burning

That pressure to know cooking

That evening full of learning.

 

Let this lose, its crap you must know

None of these losers, deserve such a show

Let your prince charming, come and get you

You dont want to deal with those moms, do you ?

 

Screw these stupid indian protocols

Know that you're not a non living doll

Dont let anyone put you in such a dead lock

Laugh it out, its just an Indian wedlock.