The Indian festival of Holi.
Fun, colour, dance, through boli (speaking, singing).
The festival of throwing colour at each other.
Its a shame, I’m now in dispute with my brother!
We use to love celebrating Holi.
Dancing along to the rhythm of the dholi (drum player).
He is now just full of hate.
It was his wife who set the bait.
Dad left writing his will all too late.
We need a magic wand.
He’s trying to steal all the land.
Here and abroad.
It’s just all fraud, I wish I had a sword…
Slow down, try that Punjabi mediator, he’ll remove your frown.
So, what went down?We used that Harvinder guy. He made the process fly. No lie, somehow, he made the dispute just die.
Impressed not only by the way he dressed. But as such a young apna (one of us, Punjabi). It was like a sapna (dream).
Why was he so special?
He cut through all the hustle.
We all got roughly the same share, which was fair. My brother did dare, to glare.
But through his flare, the mediator was able to chair.
An agreed deal, which stopped the steal.
Now we can all feel peace.
The fighting did cease.
