A SONG DEDICATED TO THE GREAT GADGET GOD
Smrithi Rumdali Rai
***
“Whoever said that women have no penchant for machines,
never had any female relatives.”
Here is a song for the GREAT GADGET GOD(DESS)… Wherever HE or SHE may be! The song is to be set to the tune of any of your favourite punchy number sung in B Flat Minor to the accompaniment of a Hoover, a blender and your baby’s wails… Or your dog’s sharp barks if you don’t have a baby. If you have neither, just borrow your teenage brother’s “Coolest Song of the Century”.
Now that you are prepared… what’s that slightly throbbing pain at the side of your left temple you say… Well, it’s the first sign of greater things to come. Here goes…
***
The toast is burning, smoke billows black
The fire alarm screams in fury
In vain, Oh dear… Alack!
Nothing heard over the storm of cleaning
By the formidable Bai and her trusty,
The 80 horse power of Eureka Forbes pack.
Chorus:
Gadgets Gadgets Gadgets, hello!
Wherever you are chaos is bound to follow!
Mommy is in the bathroom drying her locks
Her faithful hair dryer of ten years roaring the ditty
You’ll look gorgeous today, gonna make you pretty.
Camouflaged by the roar, Nephew seizes his chance
And barks out orders for GI Joe’s defiant stance
“Down with America! Viva la France!”
Put him in the blender and watch Joe dance.
Chorus:
Gadgets Gadgets Gadgets, away!
You will always ruin the best part of my day!
A scream and the smell of burning hair
Straightening irons fly out of my teenage niece’s lair
A frizzy-haired lass who longs for a straight tress
Assisted by my little sis with rollers who claims
“My poker straight would never go with that dress!”
Chorus:
Gadgets Gadgets Gadgets, you demand!
Too late you realize it’s them in command!
Fat aunty Kat Jacob waddles up out of breath
Her eyelids turned out by an instrument
Of Chinese torture… Guaranteed to curl
Her lashes and make her look like a girl.
“Kitty,” she calls out in anxious mother love
“Have you burnt your curls again?”
Hands stretched in supplication to the Mighty above
“Why? O My Lord, why,” she cries
“Did she have to inherit her hair from Mr. Jacob?”
Who at this moment is swearing at the washing-machine
The spin-drier’s caught a sock and will not yield
“Finders Keepers” it seems to smugly say
And laughs at him tearing out his woolly hair
Uncle Jacob utterly defeated and having lost his cool
Slouches away and starts looking for his tools.
Chorus:
Gadgets Gadgets Gadgets, galore!
You’ve knocked me flat out, I’m on the floor!
I steal softly into my Grandma’s room…
There she’s waving her brush in the air
“Come in,” she says brightly, all too soon
“I’ve been waiting to show this to you,
My latest hair-brush-cum-knee-massager…”
I give up…
Peace comes after war as they say
Night steps in and the party’s underway.
Have scrubbed and scoured myself pink
Drowned myself in the Tommy Girl stink
Sister and niece have put a bounce in my hair
With one of those gadgety things sold over the sir
Even allowed them to pull out imaginary hair from my legs
With a hand held weapon they call the Elliptor.
Chorus:
Gadgets Gadgets Gadgets, owner’s pride!
Oh where can I run? Where can I hide?
Fat Aunt Kat happily unloading the dishwasher
Her eyelashes turned to the perfect curl
She swishes the table cloth with a faultless furl
Chattering incessantly like a mynah
To set the table with twice-washed china.
Coffee in the percolator, cake in the oven
The roast in the microwave looks like heaven
A car roars up and out she jumps
With flowers and wine and a winning smile
My heart stops beating for quite a while.
The night proceeds to a ring and champagne –
Both sparkle…
Almost as brightly as my mother’s eyes.
A happy end to the three-year “GET HIM” campaign
He came, he saw, and the gadgets conquered.
An engagement and a wedding
And lots of presents…
You guesses it… Right!
Chorus:
Gadgets Gadgets Gadgets, galore!
A woman’s best friend forevermore…
***
© January 2008
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