Divorce made easy in India

No more bra burning and that wretched organ music
Phallic symbols passed into history while you slept the night away
A new world order has dawned
And the world lies limp and flattened thanks to Thomas Friedman and Gloria Steinem
Women call the shots and the testosterone hormone has spread all over like pollen in this season
The Punjabi and other studs mount the horse, brandishing swords
Their male instinct inflamed at their million bucks wedding
It begins with a bang and ends in a whimper
The sordid tale of their flatulence on their wedding night no longer a bedtime whisper
'Can't blame the women,' says the judge, 'the men had it coming'
They have been flaunting - you know what, like roosters
But at crunchtime, like headless chicken they run in circles –that is the sad truth mister!
'A quick divorce is the way ahead!' said the judge
'And a woman on top the future!
Go forth in the new century, hand in hand, the world flattened beyond belief, eh mister!'
Let now the man bite the fruit in the Garden of Eden
And pay for his fellow man their sins, correct is it not, eh mister!'