Tag Archives: life

My Tiny Tim

Ok. So, I have a pet mouse named Tim. She (yes, she) convinces me more and more each day that she is a magical mouse. About a week after I got her, I heard a loud POP at 3am. When I got up for work three hours later, she was out of the cage and ran away before I could get to her. There were no holes chewed in her cage, all the doors were closed and, to this day, I have no idea how she did it.

There are a ton of cats in my neighborhood, so I gave her up for dead.

Two weeks later, I hear this scurrying scratching sound right next to my ear. At 3am. In. my. bed. O.o

Yep, it was Tim. She got away before I could catch her, again. It’s pretty much a miracle that she’s still alive.

I’ve been setting up traps every night that would catch her safely- if they worked. But when you live with Houdini, there is no telling what will happen next.


Mango pickles

China jars filled with mango pickle
Their yummy aroma will surely tickle
All your taste buds, your fantasy
Just one mouthful and you are in ecstasy.

Sharmishtha basu

Oh the things…

I say to the television:

“Never hand children magic! The trouble always starts as soon as you hand the children magic.”

[I was watching The Scorpion King while cooking dinner. I’d never seen it before and the little boy got a hold of the magic arm bracelet of DOOM.]

Just thought I’d share.

Ok. Bye.

sultry seductress

Sultry seductress
Blessed with excess of gab
And animal passion
Practices her prances
On men old enough to be father
Or may be grandfather
They slave, suck her toes
She gloats on their services,
Becomes fat on their toils

Sharmishtha basu



In the fog covered streets of London
Where once jack the ripper lurked
Now skulks the stripper witch
She has stripped off her soul
That’s not her type of possession
She prefers the weapons
Like lust, greed and passion
Armed with them she skulks
Looking for innocent preys
Only she leaves behind empty pockets
Empty wallets not corpses

Sharmishtha basu


Why take help of lies?
sweet dizzying opium!
to heal a broken heart?
wounds don’t need opium!

They need love, balm, care
they need time to heal, repair.
time to stand back on feet,
embrace the harshest reality.

honest love and care
may not dizzy the pain,
but at the end they will heal
bring him back on his feet.

opium will dizzy his senses,
fool him that the wound is not there,
may turn the wound to gangrene
and leave him mutilated for ever .

Sharmishtha basu

brand them!

Satyameva jayate- truth will be victorious!