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I nurture a dream for my grown up girl
I wish that she would marry
That she have a family of her own
And that’s where I start to worry…

She wouldn’t choose a match herself
Wouldn’t let us pick her man-to-be
She has listed down her preferences, saying
“I want a perfect man for me!”

We found a boy who matched her standards
Though dark, he carried a splendid aura
But my daughter fumed and fused, yelling
“I don’t want my kids to look like zebra!”

Then came along a handsome youth
Dashing and smart, though kind of thin
We were sure that he would charm her
She laughed, mocked him, called him “Polythene!”

Finally frustrated, she took up the matter,
And started the groom-hunt marathon…
Days turned to weeks and weeks to months,
But her search still carried on…

She finally found her perfect man,
“Mommy, he would take care of me,
He is rich and very famous and if we divorced
I’d be famous; I’d be on TV!”

Such dumbstruck were we that we could speak no more
We thought in disbelief “How could a girl be as dumb as she?
To marry a famous man for riches and leave him for good,
Just to be a celebrity!”

She just wouldn’t listen and set off to marry
The man she chose – a bloated beast,
A week later, she divorced; came home holding a magazine
“Oh come on mummy,” she said “I am in the news at least”