The room was full of elite society,
But most seemed to have lost their sobriety.
Glasses clinked with tinkling laughter,
The new bride was the one whom everyone was after.
The men were goggling, wishing their wives away,
When the lady walked with a sway.
The atmosphere buzzed with babbling tales,
The bride was surrounded by all the males.
The womenfolk were busy gossiping ,
Mrs. Sharma had lost her earring.
The servants were hovering behind the dishes,
Waiting their chance to grab fried fishes.
Abandonment is all around,
Some merry makers are on the ground.
Youngsters try to capture the dance floor,
While back biting have some really floored.
Pipe smoking buddies crowd the bridge table,
While the damsels discuss the latest labels.
Chauffeurs are also having a good time,
Busy downing throats with stolen gin and lime.
You know my servant ran away,
Mrs. Verma went on to say.
My ayah is also trying to flee,
Said Miss Meena with some glee.
She wants chutti every Sunday,
She goes to church on that day.
I found her flirting with Bhimji,
Said Meenas mom whisperingly.
Just then a couple came down the stair,
And every head turned to stare.
It was Rajiv and Rita Grover,
Who had recently returned from Vancouver.
Listening to their groovy tales,
Mrs. Mehta made a face.
Her son will also go to the states,
God has just to open lucky gates.
She will then visit him there,
On coming back people will surely stare.
Just then the hostess announced dinner,
And everyone surged to be the winner.
