It is all in the mind

I finished reading Mary Oliver's A Poetry Handbook (1994) a few days back. The book now rests on my desk, with many of its pages dog-eared and multiple lines of text underlined in different colours. (When I want to mark a portion of text that has had a significant impact on me, I grab the... Continue Reading →

The Letting-Go

The young man shivered violently as he came up for air. The stream was cold, with a slow, but not sluggish, current. Orange winter sunlight reflected over the clear water that foamed delicately around boulders. The air was still. Birds sang busily. The young man and his uncles, who were standing on the bank, had... Continue Reading →

Will be back soon: Gone Lookin’

Fear is a good thing[…]fear is what drives us to take risks and extend ourselves beyond our normal limits, and any writer who feels he is standing on safe ground is unlikely to produce anything of value. - Paul Auster, "Invisible" Dear Void, I have felt fear this past nine weeks. A lot of fear.... Continue Reading →

Respectful & Necessary: India’s Daughter

I am posting this on March 9, 2015. A regular Monday. Rape is not just an International Women's Day issue. It is an everyday-of-the-year issue. Death and Birth of Nirbhaya On the night of December 16 2012 a 23-year-old woman, a medical student, was gang raped by 6 men in a moving bus in Delhi.... Continue Reading →

On rewriting inspiration

 When you ask me to revise a poem you ask me to meet again the Muse who seldom responds to invitation. She comes in suddenly through the door left open, announcing Her presence with words that have never sat together before. She says what She has to say and goes quiet; goes away or gets broken down into elements... Continue Reading →

What is an “I” in poetry?

Situated usually at the start to grab notice, Undulating with the tone, a poem's voice Breaks in first, second or third but Just so you know it is a mere toy, a ploy Enacted to lull you into feeling. It Can, based on timing, be real in Telling what the poet's being is dealing with.... Continue Reading →

Meeting strangers on the Swiss rails

Here's my confession: I have travelled about 10 times around the earth on Swiss rails. Approximately 400,000 km. I have spent more time on these trains than I have with my friends and family. I can't go into the Whys and the Hows. It wasn't an easy life but it surely was an interesting ride.... Continue Reading →

On why poetry could save me

There are moments in life, rare ones, when you feel intimately connected with the inanimate. You cannot believe that something that can't move -- as still as that pen that refuses to write your words for you -- has moved you. I had one of these moments last night. I didn't go looking for it... Continue Reading →

When I see my portrait

Laura Zimmermann is a talented Parisian artist who I know because of good fortune: One of my husband's best friend had the good sense to date her or we would have never known this outwardly shy but inwardly bold and resolute young woman. She also has the distinction of being the only vegetarian French person... Continue Reading →

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