Nama Slay: Single Bells — A Playful Look at Matchmaking Madness

Sing to the tune of “Jingle Bells”

Dashing through the room,
In a one-woman frantic state,
Angrily shaking her broom,
And shouting for her mate.

Doorbells begin to ring,
Making the woman feel harried.
It’s not fun at all, this thing
Of getting her kids quickly married.

Single bells, single bells,
Single all the way!
What stress it is to plan a marriage
With a nice suitor who will stay.

Some prospects arrive for chai and cake,
Time is running out fast.
The kids ask, “How much do you make?”
Not questions that allow a marriage to last.

The meetings are awkward and strange,
The families are eager and pushy.
Who wants a marriage that’s pre-arranged?
With a person whose eyebrows are super bushy?

The encounters end quickly,
The kids don’t agree with anyone.
This pressure to be wed is to them sickly,
They would rather go out and have fun.

Their parents don’t like this at all.
To be married is a blessing and duty.
They seek advice from their astrologer with a phone call
To help find someone with good standing and beauty.

Single bells, single bells,
Single all the way!
What stress it is to plan a marriage
With a nice suitor who will stay.

The stars have finally aligned,
A good rishta comes through.
“Oh please, dear child, don’t decline,
Who knows what else is out there for you?”

“Don’t even think about it,” replies the child
(If you can call someone over 30 that).
Being forced to get married is just wild,
Who cares if we end up alone with a cat?

The marriage talk goes on,
Aunties gather round.
Their parents pray every dawn
For matrimonial bliss to be found.

The kids just roll their eyes,
They are happy and content in life.
And everyone knows the real prize
Isn’t about having a husband or wife!

Single bells, single bells,
Single all the way!
What stress it is to plan a marriage
With a nice suitor who will stay.