Saturday, 15 November 2008

Just like his mother

Today in local newpaper, in humor column I read this poem and I burst into laugh. I'm giving you its translation. Please know, there is no intention of personal attack.
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The bread made by me,
used to taste like chewing gum to him;
when he used to have curry made by me,
he used to remember his mother;
.
the tea made by me
was never used to be tasty as his mother's;
his mother was good cook and
my cooking was tasteless;
.
My head started spinning,
thinking on this day and night;
could I cook like his mother someday?
.
And one bright morning
an idea struck;
I waited for him on the lunch table,
happily;
.
.
and as usual he started complaining,
about a meal which was not like his mother's;
.
.
.
I turned to him and slapped him hard
just like his mother;
.
.
and what to say,
the problem got solved forever.

Original post : Just like his mother

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