Dear Reader Does identifying with poetry, soaking in its flavours, feeling its rhythm on your skin, qualify you as a poet? Recently, I changed my social media bio from ‘poet’ to ‘interested in poetry’. The more I read poetry and dive into its dew-ness, the more I am aware of how far I need to …
I Write
so I may not forget the tiny balcony in my ancestral home where Baba crouched on his haunches and smoked in the afternoons of live cricket matches that played on his green transistor more than thirty years ago. On most days that memory is enough, even though the tobacco on the tendu leaf turned his …
Yesterday
Like an old habit that dies hard Yesterday hangs on. Standing in the doorway It tugs at my heartstrings. Spins a pale green yarn to keep me snug when winter sets in. Dissolves like saccharin in a cup of sugarless tea, and tempts me with its simplicity. Pulls out half a poem written in spring …
A Hundred Quills 