Now this is a story about Manjeet,
Who lived on New York’s 42nd Street.
A hard-core desi with a desi desire,
His kacha was always in a raging fire
To control his heat he looked for a Kaur
and started by knocking on his neighbor’s door.
His neighbor was of Jamaican descent,
Six feet tall with a Brooklyn accent.
Her name was Tyson.
She looked like a Bison,
But that didn’t matter.
Cos our veer was fatter!
Jeeta was desperate, he had little choice.
So he started his chat-up in a deep hefty voice;
“Meri Jindagy, Meri Pyari,
Meri Heer, Meri Kali!”
She listened to his lines then gave him the crux;
“I’ll go out with you if you give me ten bucks!”
He put on his Brylcream and they started to date.
Jeeta was in love; thanks to his fate
But Aunty Bachni was on the prowl,
She’d smelt the perfume, it was foul!
Her senses were tingling, something was up.
So she checked out our bro, she wanted the gup!
She found him quickly in his pagri laal,
Then gave a shriek; “OH KALI DE NAAL!”
“Nee mare marrghay!” Aunty Bachno raises the alarm;
“Jeeta’s down town with a Kali in his arm!”
“There’s only one way to stop his blunder,
I’ll call his mother in district Jallundar!”
When mummy heard the news she threw a frenzy!
“Main audhay tukaray karkay rakh dhongy!”
She picked up her shawl and headed for Amerika,
To eliminate the girlfriend and bring back Jeeta!
As soon as she landed she grabbed his ear,
“Stick to Punjabis!, Maine tenoo kinee wari kayha!?”
Kala Kaloota Sara Tabar Loota!
Why didn’t you come to me? I know many Punjabis!
“OK mummy ji, just find me a voti
Who’ll make me saag and mukhi dee roti!”
“My kali friend was a bad move,
She doesn’t even like the Bhangra groove!”
“Serves you right! I’ve told you many times,
Marry a Punjabi, one of your own kind!”
“I’ll find you a kuree in England my son,
I hear there are plenty in Bolverhampton!”
“Mum, get the jelebis and lead the way!
Punjabi girls…here I come, Ballay oh Ballay!”
