Typically Archetypal

Sing oh muse the song of creativity

The song of a family’s dysfunctionality

A loving family of caricatures and stereotypes

And perhaps the most predictable archetypes

Rising prices have forced them into mansions

The men run businesses, the women fluff cushions

Our heroine is a maiden slim and fair

With Snow white’s complexion and Rapunzel’s hair

She has no opinion, no silliness, no vice

She burns many calories in being likable and nice

Often she undertakes an arduous journey to the altar

Suffering sanctimoniously, never to falter

She swelters in brocades and melts under pancake

In addition to playing victim, she can cook and bake

Often she has a hotline to the Gods above

Who in deus ex machine style come rescuing their dove

Often the boon or bane in her life

Is an elderly person dressed in pastels or white

She is the matriarch, patriarchy is her mission

Her position is highest in the hierarchy of suppression

A fairy godmother or a wicked witch they may be

Shades of grey are only for their wigs you see

They sit around like beans bags, spouting wisdom over tea

Often as multifaceted as a stout tin of ghee

Abetting the old lady in her maintaining her dominance

Is the shapeshifting mother in law, struggling for prominence

Uncomfortably oedipal, the one glorious thing she has done

Is to give the family an heir and produce a son

The knives rusted in her back she carries to the wedding ceremony

And stabs the heroine with the perils of matrimony

Her empty mind becomes the cauldron of insecurity

And it takes 1000 episodes to for her to get some clarity

However all hope is not lost for our damsel in distress

Not all are Ramsay Boltons in her matrimonial fortress

There are friendly sisters in law who take her into their boat

Together over putrid family politics they float

They are threshold guardians or heralds of good times

Or a helpful sounding board if she blasphemously whines

Challenging our fair maiden and her family fine

Is one or many poisonous vines

They can creep up from within the family holdfast

Or be the dying embers from an inferno of the past

A jilted lover, a business rival or a marriage proposal spurned

Or just a pyromaniac who likes to see the world burn

Dark ladies, dark men or just shadows of villains

They swivel whiskey glasses and loot millions

Of course no heroine is worthy of a tale

If it does not involve a chauvinistic male

He who can’t find his own hanky, watch and socks

And expects to be pampered around the clock

Often caught between his Mommy and wife,

Our chocolate faced hero’s life is no less full of strife

Saving his life is her duty sworn

Never having been told that she can live happily and alone

She feeds, she preens, she smiles, she will please

Our hero throws a smile, and she bends back to appease

Their entire lives revolve around their family fine

Where things keep going sour liked half drunk wine,

Their lives are turned into vicious circles and drudgery

Where happiness is quickly replaced by misery

Set into an existential journey of struggle

Our heroine must wonder why she is not wizard but muggle

I am yet to see one battle problems realistic

Or one who is ambitious and materialistic

She who can stick her finger up at societal morality

And ask Mr. Right to share kitchen responsibility

Sing someday oh muse the song of creativity,

The song of a family’s dysfunctionality

A loving family of caricatures and stereotypes

And perhaps the most predictable archetypes