The 5th Season Poem by Hardik Vaidya

There is one more season,
Its also called the Marriage season.
The stars, moon, sun and a couple of planets,
Sit over a drink and decide, watching a few box office balles,
In hushed tones they discuss, eat a few roasted peanuts,
Repeat their round of drinks, mull over a few butter cups,
When full, decide on the short window,
Call thier hot Apsara and dictate her a two line text or so,
She looks askance, they look usual, send it to the same chaps,
Who have our exclusive agency to spiritual Maps.
Sure sir, anything else,
Send the bar tender, dear, enough of silly dates,
Once you are through, come over serious business awaits.