Sipra's Diary:[Rep] " Wild are no more wild" -2/-3/-2026

 Wild Are No More Wild 

 

Words=  725 

 

      Can you imagine dragon as pet? Yes, I Have eye witnessed it.. People now started loving dragon which was once terrorizing carnivorous animal!

 

Millions and millions of years ago before the arrival of human species, giant dinosaur and dragon reigned the earth.

 

. Through the passage of time, most of them disappeared by nature’s selection; but some scientists think that some of the species are still living.. Through the passage of time and eco-environmental influence affected the shape and size of their predecessors. 

I was invited to my son’s friend house in Austin, Tx. I saw a huge empty glass-box in the drawing room that looked like an aquarium. At first sight, I thought all fish in the aquarium  were dead.  Emily the owner of the house made it clear to me that it was the dwelling place of her pet dragon; actually, it was luxurious glass-apartment with two artificial caves and cactus pebbles shells scattered around the glass house.  the dragon was sleeping  inside the cave of the aquarium.; A white cement or( brownish ) coloured creature seemed to be, 4/5 pound by weight. 

                                                  

“Is it its' sleeping time now?”

“No, no, perhaps the heat of the summer makes it tired; it is relaxing the coolness of A.C."

Emily took out the pet in her lap dotingly to give it the comfort of coolness directly.

 

“Wow, what a surprise!”……….

Though inwardly I was feeling disgusting and full of irritation!

Like a human baby with head near the shoulder of Emily and clutching the dress on her chest with claws of two fore-legs, by moving its neck  started looking at us with unwelcoming glance  and relactance , but surprisingly no. sign of  curiousity!  

 

    I thought with much disgust,

  ‘what for it is tired! …,…A creature once living on the rough surface of rocks and sand of the earth and praying hard for its food in the jungle and now being treated like a prodigal son of a wealthy man!’

 

But outwardly I asked politely “what does it eat?"

“live cockroaches, worms insects.  It never takes anything dead,”

 Emily declared quite proudly. As if its food habit is sophisticated!While we were talking, the dragon was taking a tour from lap to lap of the kids and finally to the lap of my daughter-in-law who was giving massage to its back.

 

Emily said to me joyfully ” Look , how it loves massage; it loves Karen because it gets massage from her .”

I said, “yes its eyes are half-closed in physical ease.” Karen is a high rated chiro practitioner and this carnivorous is getting ‘free service’!
"Lucky star"! .She handed over it to Emily.

 I noticed its nails are long and sharp enough to pierce our skin like a surgeon’s knife. 

“How old is it?”

“Three and half years”. 

  “Is it a female?”      

 “No, male.”   

“ How do you define its gender”?  Emily pulled one of its hind legs with some white lines that emit some odour which the only fellow female partner gets. 

“How do you know so much about them?  From   the internet or book?”

“The owner of the pet shop supplies all this information to me.

Has it any children?” 

 “No, I never took him to a pet shop for that purpose.”

 I said to myself ’thank god”! 

But throw a comment jokingly So you compelled it to forced celibacy”.

Emily informed  “dragons don’t like community living. They began to fight as soon as they meet another one”.

I was watching closely : a combination of little white cement and light brownish in colour; it looks  very clean and as fresh as just  as taken  a shower; two  distinct  ear holes, as big as human;  the bow-shaped  mouth stretched from left to right  nearing  below the ear-hole; two big drowsy eyes with poetic and romantic glances !

Observing my curiosity and interest Emily asked me,” Do you want to take it in lap?”

“yes “. I stretched my arms.

As  Emily made herself free from the clutch of claws, the dragon opened its mouth for yawning and I saw a clear hole like Comodo in its long tongue.  I screamed and jumped back to the wall by instinct;
Noticing its tongue   I asked in panic  ,”does it spit ?”

“Yes, they spit ; but this fellow doesn’t..........

                                                                       Words-729

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Sipra's Diary [:reposted]> Birthday Celebration in Bahama>1-2-2026

 

Ba, Bah, BAH-AMA!  

We were invited by my daughter's friend who celebrated her B-day. in Bahama  island.  It was a party of twenty .We spend there five gala days. First day for  the city tour by  fancy bus , second day  boat journey on the ocean; the young folk enjoyed  fun in snorkeling & playing  golf on  the beach & taking lunch in  a restaurant of island. I picked some shells which I left in the  balcony of the hotel by mistake .On the third day grand celebration of birthday party in an  Indian restaurent;  food along  with drinks-dance-music!was awesome.The added attraction for me was the event of my debut launching "EYEs Are Notorious"!

People of Bahama are  nice, warm -hearted and tourists-friendly. 

It seemed my room on the hotel was hanging on the ocean! I enjoyed ocean view all the time.Here color of the ocean is very different from others . Weather was nice.All the hotels were full of tourists who came on spring  break.There were two/three swimming  pools.We enjoyed the water glide on tube .Whole day the pools & beach were crowded with merry-making  people. 

I felt water still little cool for me . So I enjoyed from my balcony the  elaborate, ' massive bikini cum butt-show':  bony butt, fleshy butt,         big butt like tea-table of all ages:  

Butty-Bahama !

Most bikinis are made of more scanty cloth than they  used to be ;  Some bikinis are like dental  floss  between two variety of halves..............    

whereas the men folk were in normal swimming dress.Because the poor folks  haven't any extra flesh on chest or butt to compete! 

I wish the bikini 'designers' & their marketeers  to be guillotined by constitutional law!

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Sipra's Diary :Blockage for Aspiring Writer-(Motherfu...")feb,2026

 

       Blockage for aspiring Writer: ' mother fu........r '

Saheb  reached central park little earlier; so he sat on a bench near the big golden statue, waiting for his friends Rasul and Amir. 

He took out the fiction' 'Hacker- mocker' from the side bag.  But his attention from the fiction  was stolen towards  a  young  couple who were walking with hands locked to each other lovingly. He gazed at them minutely  unless he got a slap on  his back  by Amir . 

He turned back startled !

Amir asked ," what are you looking so romantically?  

You are   absolutely duped! It  is wrong what are you thinking !

They are  gay couples, male-partners !"

Saheb:  "No, no. On  the  left side is a  hot female one : nice figure, delicate walking! I am little attracted  to them......!"

Amir- "Because you get only the back view, front-view is tractor -ridden-plain-landscape without any wave in body!"

Saheb:" You also get same view as me! What makes you to understand otherwise?

Amir.  " I can understand easily from the walking style!"

Saheb  "Then let me know that style !"

Amir,   "One who will walk like 'corgi-dog' with heavy swaying butt is sure to play female partner among the gay couple!"

Saheb took a last look of  disappearing  'corgi-butt'. 

Saheb: "Amir, I am interested to visualize  the swaying butt of an actual corgi dog."

Amir burst into laughter !

"OK. Queen Elizabeth has 5  Corgi dogs! We will enjoy Friday night on the Netflix show of the "Queen"  episode !" 

Amir added farther ,"I feel their  butts are so funny!as they walk"...

Saheb with dreamy look said, "I am waiting with excitement for Rasul

to come with my "manuscript"of first novel. His friend got some odd job  in a small  Publishing House . I have handed over my manuscript to him two weeks  ago."

"From my school life my  goal of life was to be a writer, a successful writer !  Rasul  gave me that hope of life ! I am so grateful to him !"       ......................

Amir did not reply. He knows well that  how much  crafty Rasul is enough to give false promise!.........

"Lo, he has come!"  

Saheb looked at Rasul with great hope. 

But to his disappointment Rasul conveyed ,

"I'm so sorry Saheb!" 

My friend in publishing House complained that  amidst  380 pages  of the manuscript  not in any  single place is mentioned the word   'fuck'.

I advised you repeatedly to put in the story enough 'spice' which means cocktail of raw sex  with slang words  and vulgarity ; otherwise theme  or plot is not  enough to attract general readers, understand?

To become  'best seller'   in US Publishing Houses  you must pack some juicy matter like illicit gossip, rape , 'fuck' in several chapters!...hmm...

Such a novel without salt or spice will never be published in this country.  Rasul threw the rolled manuscript from his side bag on the ground in disgust! 

Saheb with insulted red face started to pickup scattered pages of the manuscript and murmured in contempt : it is a story of single mother struggling to bring up her children to respectable position in society......

Rasul cried out,  " Eureka!....snatched the dialogue by stopping Saheb. 

.... Why arn't  adding 'Motherfucker'?  

     It's mother-fucker!...perfect fit.

"Saheb , Try, try again using the word  'mother-fucker!'

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Two elderly women  passed them with walker little  ago ; they turned heads from little  far to hear the slang word "fuck". From the opposite side  a police van was coming and was stopped by those  women. 

Amir said to Rasul, "we will be arrested by the police for you! Look the  women seemed to complain something about us to the police !"

Watching it Rasul hurried  them,"Let us leave this place quickly by taking nearest  subway stairs !"

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Sipra's Diary:" Plight of the flying Flocks"

 

              Plight Of The Flying Flocks.

What a pleasure to gaze at the flocks of birds in the sky

Fluttering the dazzling wings in the golden sunbeams 

 

Coming back to   the forests for rest in nests !

 

They always fly with a fantastical   pattern 

 

Their wings flutter in rhythm, never haphazard !

 

I wonder to think who is their choreographer!

 

 

It is not a joyride for them at all, as we imagine;

 

In each morning from  the sun rising  up to setting 

 

What energy and pain they need to spend for living!

 

Can our pleasure be turned  empathy for this fragile being?

 Through window pane, I noticed them always busy 

 Taking care of wings for mending with claw or sharp beak  !

   

 

What they twitter in the  evening or early morning ?

 

With ‘Kichmich , kichimich' sound  in chorus tune ?

 

Do they give  ‘get up call’ to all  of their own  flocks :

 

"Let us  grab grains  from the  nearest  plane

 

Before any other flock   can  encroach !.".  

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Sipra's Diary: "BABURCHI"

                              BABURCHI ( COMIC)  W=543

Abdul   Khan was happy to be  posted as ranger officer in

 Rosulpur, Murshidabad . He was a widower with no issues . He owned  a doberman as pet . He loved wine and his pet. He was foodie and fond of classical music.

 

Every evening he  was addicted of taking a whole chicken cooked in plenty of butter & red chilli, roasted potato with a bottle of wine along with listening classical vocal music.

 He loves isolation more than socialization  except  Saturday night only that  he took tea after the lunch to chat with  some  colleagues but they al used to leave  before evening .

His old cook  Ismyle introduced  his niece Amir to him as his new cook before going home for serious  operation of his kidney which might take  three to  four  months to be cure . 

Mr Khan started liking young Amir more that the old one: pretty intelligent witty and able of delicious preparation. 

Mr Khan was not a kind generous man at all.  Shortly clever Amir came to understand his miserly nature. Mr Khan was frugal to treat with the household servants; though he was enough rich  and had neither wife nor any issue! 

Young Amir was a voracious eater.  He felt his mouth was full of water while cooking chicken in butter and rare aromatic spice.

Mr Khan spent long time to finish dinner; he ordered Amir to prepare the peg of drinks time to time during his prolonged dining hour; He praised Amir a lot about his culinary skill but  never spared or offered him a piece of chicken !

One day the spicy aroma of chicken  made  Amir too crazy to check himself from tasting it. He thought himself 'Mr khan might not notice  that out of  alcoholic intoxication. He Grabbed one leg-piece of the chicken out of greed  during cooking.  

He served the dinner on table with wine at as-usual time and  played a record of Mr Khan's favorite classical singer great bade Golum  Ali Khan! Mr.Khan was eating and listening music with closed eyes , exclaiming ,"a-haha!" 

Suddenly he opened eyes on his plate with searching look ; (apprehending possibility of interrogation)  instantly Amir pretended to be absorbed in listening  music with eyes closed! 

Clearing throat Mr khan asked ," Amir, where is the other leg- piece of the chicken? Go and fetch it from the cooking pan."

Amir  as if, woke up from melodic ocean! Scratching head he answered,"this hen had only one leg, sir !"

Mr Khan murmured with displeasure,'I never saw an one legged  hen  or turkey in my life !'

Next morning was Sunday. Mr Khan was taking morning walk with Amir on the river bank. Some cranes were waiting to  prey fish with one leg  hidden  under their belly.

Amir cried out in excitement , "sir, sir!please look at  the cranes! the hen also was like them with having only one leg!" 

Coming  nearer as Mr Khan clapped , the cranes flee away showing two legs visible!

"Hey I see them moving with two legs ."

 Amir replied,"But sir, you know the chicken was in that position of   one hidden-leg at the time of cooking.".................

 

   Mr khan couldn't but appreciate Amir's presence of mind!

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Sipra's Diary:....[. POEM] "Am I Nobody?"

 

     AM I NOBODY?    Sipra Roy      LINES   >40

 

When I came to New York as visitor mom,

First time I heard of Emily Dickinson,

As I visited Morgan Museum, where 

Her Birthday was going celebrated by the Museum.

 

I noticed at the main entrance,” Who are You?”

Written in giant letters, welcoming the visitors !

Though I was ignorant of the fact that it was excerpt 

From her verse, I was little confused but greatly hooked.

 

Inside the hall lots of excerpts from poems and poet’s portrait 

Were for display on the wall; my daughter took me upstairs

I noticed there a ‘poetry workshop’ led by an Interne of Harvard 

My daughter registered my name sensing my interest.

I enjoyed the class that sparked me to add  some thought;

“Who are you?  Are you nobody too? Then let us  paired.”

 

……….How nice to be self-banished

           Under the shadow of Nobody!

 

           The truth is that I crave to be somebody.

           Like everybody does on earth.

           When the eternal ambition of humanity

           Aims to shine  as 'somebody' that  remains unfulfilled

           Then seek shelter under the umbrella of  

           Familiarity   for comfort and self consolation.

          ‘ Of course grapes are sour, if it is beyond reach!’

           To be somebody is dreary .

           Why?

            As to bear the bug of identity 

            Paired with the crisis that 

            Runs parallel; 

            Chased by social insects,  name,

            Fame ,glories: maladies of modern time!

            Still achieving  dream through these maladies

            Is  the 'paradox' of life  !!

 

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Sipra's Diary: [prose]>........"AM I NOBODY?"

 

   " Am   I  Nobody-"- (  Prose )

I Have lots of projects in my mind to do  but at the end of the day I am frustrated to see  the barren land of my creativity,  an arid  desert spread with cactus . Writing   gives  me   joy but my relationship with  old  buddy of pen & paper  has been tragically  swapped by 

new  attachment with computer ; At the time of taking morning walk  or shower or 

cutting vegetables ,   fantastic ideas pop up  in me;   when  I  sit on the writing table I 

decide every time to turn back to my old buddy -'pen and paper' but novelty of new love 

magnets me to   surrender 'decision'  which  finally  collapses to   the alter  of  'Wish'.  In the tug of war between    thoughts,   ideas become either fugitive or lost.  While hand  moves  like snail,  ,ideas are  too speedy  like mail  to hold on.  

When I started to write blog ,I wrote them to improve my typing speed ; I wrote them for my own pleasure. After I joined some Creative  Writing  Class  I saw most of the members are published authors They displayed their books with hard binding & attractive covers!I became quite impressed  and  turned  me into fireflies ;  I spend much time to  learn computer    than to  practice  writing; I took free classes in library and senior center ;  All the seniors  were  interested to learn E-mail,  Face  book  games  photo shop and   not more than that.  I lost   my. several writing pieces  in " the.  trial a & error practice of "online' submission.   I.  applied    in New Yorker   magazine  ,Wall. street , as freelance writer  with no response ;  When I read some of my own   pieces   I patted myself  ;  It  leads me to think  that  all   famous   writers began their    journey   as "new'.... .  suddenly Emily Dickinson  came into my mind ; perhaps  she wrote it in her early period of poetic journey,a popular piece of poem to become cliche later on    "Who are you?......are you nobody ,too ?"

          YES!

 I am 'nobody;'.....but I want to be somebody.      [next]                                                                                  

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[ Poem]