Whose heart is it anyway?

She, our daughter,

Image: Ujala Chowdhry

is a medical disaster

I did cut her body in two

one for me

and, one for you

Her breasts for her lover

Then what is the hold-up, dear?

Her heart has a mind of its own

It slips out 

every-time I touch it

How do I divide her heart?

I am baffled and confused

How shall we restart her,

without the damned heart?

Maybe, her lover can,

change the heart of her heart

I tried a lot, sir

But I can’t change her,

Her heart

Oh, what good are you?

Here, take your share;

her breasts are yours now

But what about her heart, sir?

We can’t do anything about it

It is arrogant and stubborn

Just as she..

I agree, sir.

I agree, dear.

Well, who needs her heart anyway

Now that we have our individual pieces

We can all stop obsessing over her

I proved her wrong 

She, after all, does belong

to me, her mother and her lover

But what about the heart, sir?

Well, fuck the heart

Let’s be happy with what we’ve got,
Give me some formaldehyde
And we are good to go...