I have been a teacher for about four decades ,but even more than that , a student and learner all along --literature being my favourite subject with special love for poetry , a trait I seem to have inherited from my father,who was a very good poet ,it was he that instilled in me a deep love for poetry early in childhood . Starting as a science student ,I shifted to literature after graduation and and worked on Emily Dickinson's poetry for Doctoral degree. I don't claim to be a poet ,but do admit my inherent love for poetic utterances as and when I find them and sometimes feel inspired to give vent to my own emotions in words that seem to convey them .Honestly it happens quite effortlessly and also leaves me with an immense satisfaction .If it can be termed poetry ,all the more rewarding. .
skipped rocks through a stream today the opening of a brand new day its frame is in minor decay the bleached wood massed in bone piles, we pulled it from dark beach and built fire in a fenced clearing the
Away from the crowd She whispered her tale. To the cresting waves, To the frothy foam, To the flying seagulls, They knew her soul. They were waiting for her To wash her heart. She left the remains, She was carrying
An insider was asking: this was a very troubling question. Why a culture becomes sick, burns the book, and beheads a god? Forgive my loincloth. This century was becoming very hot till the nose bleeds and fills the cauldron of
The hawk was always hatching a pacer, to spin the surveillance, tampering the tracks of violence. The haul was heavy. Moon and fishes went on to spread the dragnet striking gold from the liquid denials. The sovereignity was violated of
Everything we know, or think we know, comes from an infinitesimal speck of time and space. “Important” people, just random specks of insignificance. Nothing more than Sea Monkeys, fluttering around Sea Monkey world. Everything spoken as truth only reinforces ignorance.