This is an autobiographical epic poem in the style of The Aeneid. Names are obviously false.
I will not open with fact,
No matter how you react,
But with imagination,
And without the slightest hesitation.
Let me take you back in time,
Please do not decline,
And paint you a scene,
Where much may you glean.
Picture a distinguished man,
A terrifyingly strict man,
Of an old fashioned, Victorian mindset,
That was Ajay Biswas, a man of prospect.
Biswas had a family; a wife Ambu,
Two sons; Bansi and Babu,
Two daughters, Alpana and Amala.
Bansi, the elder was an engineer,
Which in India is a popular career,
With the elder three married and settled,
Ajay determined Babu too be settled.
Babu, a carefree guy of twenty four,
Did his free and single life adore,
But Ajay, stern and unbending,
Decided an arranged marriage be pending.
Ajay consulted with nephew Manav,
Manav had a daughter Malati,
Ajay and Manav agreed on the union.