Gadget-wise:

I of the apple inc.
I of the family link.
I like a butterfly,
I- flying not so high.

I-tunes in the i-pod,
Belonging to i-god.
Mellowing i-moods;
Breaking i-broods.

Laptop warrior,
Burden carrier.
Mobile distraction.
Static horizon.

Television capsules.
Pullover pure wool.
Reassuringly firm;
Aged short term.

Refrigeration rules;
Body temperature cools.
Mixer, grinder, blender.
Shredded served anger.

Hot wheels, microwave tease.
Attention, stand-at-ease.
Load shedding breaks-
Number of takes.

On 544

So-low tight flare,
Levis five four four-
Aspiring for you, a sight rare
My sprit soar soar soar...

When will that-
28 inch waistline I gain?
Will I ever be able to...
With my greed bargain?

Back to five one one-
A regular pond full of swan.
Loose T-shirts to hide the tiers,
Wish I could melt these with fires.

I have no height-
I have put on weight;
Mastered the taste buds-
But a slave to my fat(e)

How I long to be long-
How I wait to loose weight-
Those culinary delicacies,
Will soon be put to test.

Till then, with my five one one-
I solemnly rest.

The Sunday Times:

Heavy with wish for a little more sleep-
Her eyes were almost ready to peep;
Into stripes and collars and pocket-books,
But glaring into what is to be cooked.
Breakfast, tiffin, lunch, dinner,
Couldn’t the refrigerator be little cleaner?
The iron-man, the water-bearer,
God save the not god-fearer.
The loud cook, the over-age maid,
All made up for her A-grade.
Monsoon now meant damp walls,
Onto which silently a spider crawls.
Out of pages, the clear light of day,
Leaves food rotten, open on a tray.
She conjured up a trick,
Of being indifferent for a week.
The walls flourished with organized cobweb,
The shelves and wardrobes looked an ‘after-raid’.
Divinely domesticated,
Life was translated-
From pastels to dust,
Rhymes to rust.

USP FOR ADOPTING ME:

I present my candidature to all those who had expressed their interest in adoption. Also included are the specific reasons which I believe may help you choose me before all others as the most befitting issue.

To begin with I am already 23 years of age, an adult, pertaining to both democracy and biology, which in effect offers you various privileges like:
The cost of all immunization is done with.
Educational expenses and tensions are dealt with.
My likes and dislikes are defined, hence, there is nothing left for you to teach; just love me and make me the nominee to all your property, now.
Being a girl, marriage stands out as a singular problem with parents. However in my case that has been taken care of too. So, not just the expense but also the burden of finding a suitable groom or accepting the weird guy I might have brought in is erased.
My frequent mood swings will keep you entertained and busy.
My infrequent actions will keep you working hard.
My ability to achieve a lot will make you delighted.
My inability to achieve will make you disgusted.
You will be invited to all my parties which will have interesting men/women and music and you would be free to help yourself to both and more.
I’ll love you like a pet, oh I will.
I promise to take care of you. I’ll put you in the best of hospitals when you are sick and visit you regularly with books and flowers. Believe me; I know at this mature age that my immaturity is eclipsed by a sense of dependency.

Approval expected.
Thank you,
Kuntala Sengupta Chakraborty.