It had become us vs them...

We fed them poison and killed them. When we couldn't find anyone to dispose off the bodies, my dad did that. The two mice had been to every corner of the house and had tried their teeth on every possible thing. They ate my chicken sweet corn soup from inside the packet, they ate the mathri with pickle from the luxery of my plate, and last few of my nights were always tortured by the memories of that time a few months back when one of their ancestors pulled out that stunt of climbing up my jeans, right up the back of my T-shirt (Gee, and I was IN that T-Shirt all the while thinking that one of my parents is playfully running a hand on my back, only to find them both before my eyes the next moment while 'someone' was still playfully teasing its fingers up my back), and jumping from the tip of the last hair on my forehead. Nobody would have believed me, had my mom also not seen it jumping at the last moment. That one would perhaps make a suitable match for a female mouse who has mentioned an adventure loving mouse as an ideal match on its orkut profile, well...

The recent ones had evolved even over that previous one in that they somehow always managed to eat the oiled bait I specially saved from my dinner every night and still never get into the mouse trap for a whole one month. They even avoided the cake poison that we put at 20 odd carefully chosen locations for two days. My dad had been gone out for about two hours in search of that poison cake the day before, when my mom made me wait for the evening tea because dad could return any moment. Eventually, we had no alternative but to make tempting dough balls tinged with cynide and I have to say now I have never seen such an example of customer satisfaction with any of the products on the market in recent years. I am going to write a testimonial to that cynide company today. Only four hours it took and they lay flat in the middle of the room. God bless the manufacturer.

My sister argued something about mouse rights, as in we shouldn't have killed those mice so mercilessly. Perhaps it's the affect of the company of this really beautiful girl in her class who has a pet mouse in her hostel room (Yes, a white one. But what the hell, it's still a mouse! And not as beautiful as stuart little or the girl owner herself) All her snaps on my sister's laptop are with her mouse only. I have been in predicament from some time about asking her out. How long I would be able to avoid not just meeting but pampering this Mr. Mouse if I get the prized opportunity to date her is anybody's guess! All right, you don't have to remind me that I don't have guts to ask her out anyway. Yeah, not just her but any girl. Okay, not even a not-so-pretty one. All right, that's enough, leave it now!