Marriage

Painting: 'The Bolt' by Jean-Honoré Fragonard

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My mother sits in front of me,

Holding a cup of tea.

She stares at me,

I look at her face,

I know what's in her mind.

When are you getting married?

When are you going to settle down?

How can I explain it to her?

Oh! Mother! The world is too beautiful for me to settle down.

In a garden full of beautiful flowers,

It's too difficult for me to select one.

Each one is blessed with a vibrant colour,

Sometimes I like Red sometimes it's Green.

And sometimes I search for a colour that I have never seen.

The garden is full of diversity,

The fragrances confuse me.

Which one to pluck? Which one is made for me?

Oh! My beloved mother I understand your emotions.

But please try to understand mine,

I am like a blow of wind that no walls can confine.

I know that it is extremely pleasurable to find a flaw,

In your daughter-in-law.

But I am scared that I will never be a son-in-law.

Settling down into marriage,

Will kill out the romanticness.

Boredom will creep in slowly,

As there will be no newness.

I want to live the life of a wanderer,

Ascetic life of bondage free.

I want to taste the fruits that I get on my way,

Without even owning the tree.

I don't care what the society thinks,

Neither should you.

Marriage is a dying institution,

Let us kill it too.