Lalbagh 16/11/2018 When the winter breeze begins blowing When the city’s auditoriums fill with plays Under the soft morning light in Lalbagh I sit, reading to the wind A collection of poems in hand Short stories in my bag Giant Silk Cotton Trees, three of them With me, behind the bench I sit Little men … Continue reading Lalbagh
Jim Harrison’s poem ‘Barking’. I imagine the man lived a full life. BARKING The moon comes up. The moon goes down. This is to inform you that I didn’t die young. Age swept past me but I caught up. Spring has begun here and each day brings new birds up from Mexico. Yesterday I got a … Continue reading Barking
We leave half a world of memories abandoned but after having lived them well. I cruise through those with an intention of making more, every night, after drifting into sleep. I wake up and think of the other half that is yet to be created. For the remaining half, we do not meet. We walk … Continue reading Before leaving
(Via Rachel Moravia on twitter) Gets the grain of life’s experience. To let it go requires work every damn day. And yet, every following morning it is back to square one, where one fails to imagine life in the absence of what one loved.
Jo aap yun raah dikha gaye. Prerit sadaa!
17/7/2018 Nairobi Two pages from Sabiti Kabushenga’s ‘Yet’. Unusual form and extraordinary spontaneity in this poem. Re-reading every poem in the collection. Volumes of Poets of Africa to leave with.
17/06/2018 Gjerdrum We read poetry and talk poets. They speak of times that I haven’t known. I speak of a time they have seen all of. Then those hands write in good wishes for a future, on first pages of a Szymborska book. Being gifted a Szymborska will be a memorable evening of life, because, … Continue reading