Today’s a little different,

It’s the first of January

I’m usually flopped over the bed

Quite hesitant to hurry.


But today’s a special day

Eyes alight with golden hope

To succeed and achieve further

And spread joy at every scope.


I whip out my pen and paper

(Or a phone, considering day and age)

Ready to scribble out my resolutions;

Reach a more triumphant stage!


Whether it’s to study harder

Or the classic ‘lose weight’,

Being a tad less touchy,

Being not so late!


Need we make or break a habit,

And begin with a clean slate?

Make ourselves quit cold turkey

Or turn over a new leaf this date?


There’s always a little goal

Which we strive to make shine

(And hey, if they’re same as last year,

Don’t worry, so are mine 😉 )


The End Of An Year


1o minutes for the clock to strike 12

All gathered around in glee

A celebration on New Year’s Eve

Bubbling joy in the family.


It’s all good humour: parties and so

But that moment: when all are solemn:

Past accomplishments, even hardships

We pause to remember them.


365 days, that’s 8760 hours!

We end up maturer at heart,

Festivals and birthdays whoosed by

They’re cherished as from 2015 we part.


While we recall memories

Tick! The clock begins a new year!

Yet another, of hope and beginnings

2016 has begun: It’s officially here!

Cheeky Little Sun


When I wake up every morning,

Which isn’t too great, I do say,

A glaring thing shines over me

Breaking my slumber with many a ray.

Its called the sun, that’s all I know,

But what a cheeky fellow it is!

Rather than minding its own business

It shines an INFURIATING fizz!

It’s most trying, if I do say so myself,

Most exasperating is the sun,

It peeks so cheeky over mountain tops

But I cant catch it, away it run.

It’s terrible when I switch on telly,

When I flip to my favourite TV show,

It shines so bright I can’t see a thing,

Because of its INFURIATING GLOW!

How I long to catch that naughty sun,

I’ve never met such a cheeeeeky fellow,

Peeping and prying until night breaks

Just grinning, huge and yellow.

I’ll lock it up for sure some day,

And taunt it the way it does to me,

The great toad of a sun, annoys everyone

I’ll wake it up quite INFURIATINGLY!

Pancakes :D

Yum. Just...yum. :P

Yum. Just…yum. 😛

Eggs, flour and some more things

Spread as batter across the pan

Flipped up and down till golden brown

Best made by ma, pa or gran.

A perfect, soft and silky dish

It must be undoubtedly round

From the platter, when in falls on the plate

With that floppy, patting sound.

Now unless you like yours salty,

Just wait a little bit more,

First dab on that maple syrup

Then gobble hot! Taste buds: explore.

An Ode To Smelly Feeters


I dislike smelly feet.

They seem repulsive to me.

For who, on this Earth,

Sweaty toes wants to see?

All I am trying to say,

Is be hygienic my friend

Have clean feet, good job!

Now keep up this good trend.

To finish this fairly gross rhyme

Have a bath once in a while

Remember to clean between the toes

If you don’t, I’ll go senile.


Some nonsense for today! 😀

Mr Popo Writes A Book

Hello my dear friends!!! Today’s post is a little poem on….that’s right, Mr Popo! If you don’t know about him, he is a regular character in . He is always filled with funny antics! Here are the links to his previous posts:

Today’s Popo post is about Popo trying to write a book for his new job! Here goes:

Mrs Popo And Mrs Pipi

Mrs Pipi stared at her fatty husband.
He looked rather occupied.
This was an astonishing thing indeed
So on his desk she spied:
A bunch of empty lined paper
And pens of thirty kinds
And just in case the paper tore
On his desk were kept some binds.
“Okay, Popo, tell me now,
What on EARTH are you up to?
You don’t seem great at the moment
And your mood is awfully blue.”
“Oh Pipi! I searched for a job!
And I ended up as a junior writer
I though writing would be easy
And the burden would be lighter.
But oh boy, was I wrong!
All I have done is got a lot of stuff.
I’ve acted super important and mighty
And acted as though I am bluff.
Oh, about 3% of my work is done
I filled the numbers of each page
But by the time I’ve filled them,
I’ll be million years of age.”
Mrs Pipi sighed and laughed.
She was used to Popo’s silly habits
And she knew when he got into them
He’d be jumpier than some rabbits.
“Oh Popo, I see your dilemma,
But I think we can the situation pass,
But before we start together,
I’ll get you some water in a glass.”
“Oh you needn’t, dear Pipi,
You see I spent more of my time
In preparing in beginning to write
Than really writing a dime.
I got fifty back up paper-sheets
And bottles of back-up ink
And a glass of water as well
If I felt I needed a sleepy wink.”
“Oh God! My hubby dearest,
Fine. Just drink it up quick!
And then I’ll call up your writer boss
For with him I have bone to pick.”
Mrs Pipi did a loud face palm,
Sighed twice and to him said,
“I see why you aren’t a writer.
This way, I want YOU dead!”
And so she called the Mr Boss,
And asked him what Popo could write,
And Mr Boss said if not a story,
Someone else’s poems would be right.
“Copying? Of course not, Mr Boss!
That’s just cruel and WRONG!
That’s just plain cheating
And meant for the un-strong!”
Mr Boss laughed and replied,
“No, Mrs Pipi! That isn’t what I mean!
He can just compile some poems
Not as a writer, but as a compiler he’d be seen!”
Then Mrs Pipi understood just then
And quickly bid goodbye,
And told Mr Popo of the idea
And this was his reply:
“But Pipi, whose poems can I compile?
I don’t know too many writer guys!”
But Mrs Pipi had a great idea
And she said the word of the wise:
“How about that youth Tapasmi?
The one who writes about you?
You’re always flattered about her
‘Mr Popo’ poems do!
“What a great idea Mrs Pipi!”
Popo hugged Pipi who was surprised
But she smiled anyways at Popo,
The fat man, short-sized.
And so the two set the work
And collected all poems of Popo
And with the motivation of energy drinks
They were quite soon on the go.
The next day at work Popo
Had a super compilation to submit
To Mr Boss the next day at work
And the compilation was a hit!
It was soon published with
‘Mr Popo’ stamped across the front
And Mr Boss and little Pipi
Were pleased with the stunt.
And so now you know of the little time
When Popo with his wife
To write a book of poems
Together did he strive.
And I, being Tapasmi,
Am flatter Popo chose me,
So I’ll keep on writing about him,
Soon, I know you’ll see.

A Rainy Day


Splashing in puddles making our shoes wet

I don’t know how much better could this ever get.

As we continue in our lonely way

Up above us our umbrellas sway.

Water showering down on us

Making us drenched and cold

But we don’t mind of course as

This is more precious than a nugget of gold.

The rain slowly ends

No more lightning and thunder

Wonderful thing, rain is,

I gently wonder.

So the day ends,

And so does rain

I can’t wait for it to come again.


When I Used To Have Pie For Dinner


When I used to have pie for dinner

I used to finish first

I’d eat so much of it

That I’d think I’d easily burst

Every sort of pie was made at home

And I’d gobble it all down,

That I’d become so fat and heavy

That I’d no longer fit in my gown

Apple pie, blueberry pie,

Straw berry pie and more,

I’d become so huge and fat

That I’d not be able to squeeze out the door

But suddenly we were out of flour,

So that meant no more pies

So we can’t complain about the food we now eat

Or we’ll have to survive without food otherwise.




Mr Popo

There was a short man with a tall black hat

Matching his jet-black coat which was too fat.

His name was Mr Popo, and one day he went to a mall,          

And, with his small hand, knocked behind a wall.

Up jumped a pussy cat, and ran away with Mr Popo’s hat,

And Mr Popo screamed!

The sun brightly gleamed.

And this, o dear reader, is the first part of the scene.


Soon Mr Popo went to a shop, with his bare head,

and he was so angry, his cheeks had become red.

So he bought a small red hat, the only one available at the shop,

And knocked at a wall, and up came a kangaroo, with its loud hop!

It hopped away with Mr Popo’s new red hat,

And down at the bench Mr Popo sat.

He thought he was some poor servant, of a mighty queen.

And he was so angry, his little cheeks became green! 

And this, o dear reader, is the second part of the scene.*


Then Mr Popo went to a shop, and bought a yellow hat,

Knocked at another wall, and up jumped both kangaroo and cat!

And both gave the two hats back, and his temper decreased,

And he was half-tired, half-relieved.