Cheer up my son, buck up my boy,
You are living in 'The Land of Joy'. You go to
school where they do not teach,
In the house of God, they hatred preach. If you
have merit, you will sigh and sob,
If you are backward, you might get a job. Out of
caste, if you dare to wed,
Your kith and kin will chop your head. If you are honest, in north or in south,
You will live from hand to mouth. If you are wily and your means sinister,
You are likely to become a chief minister. But
remember the new maim, my lad,
Defection is good, conversion is bad.

Bankers and ministers,
Sold for a penny,
All the swindlers are so many,
The envy's green,
And the CBI red's,
Nail them all, and get,
Their head, head, head.

Batsman-bowler sat on the ball.
Batsman-bowler had a great fall,
All the bookies' cookies,
All the bribers' men,
Couldn't put Indian cricket together again.

Little Lal Advani
Sat with his TV vahini
Taking his party's rai,
He stuck out his thumb,
Hoping to pull out the plum,
And said,'Can I have a slice of Vaj-pie?'

Little Miss Bharti,
Did a Maha-arti,
So the BJP would always hold sway.
There came a big BSP With Mayavati its USP.
And frightened Miss Bharti away.

Wha Wha Black Sheep,
Have you pulled the wool?
Yes sir, Yes sir,
Three bags full.
One for my father,
One for my dame,
And one for the CBI,
Crying in the lane.

Wedding Poems