There are so many talented poets writing poetry now. Every week I’ll be posting names of five poets whose work I have enjoyed with an excerpt from one poem of theirs. They are in no order. Do check out other poems by them.
1- Nabanita Kanungo
This is from her poem ‘Season‘ published by The Bombay Literary Magazine.
The regular mate isn’t around.
Her owner has taken her away on a holiday.
One day, his risks at luring someone else paid off
and the ensuing rituals offered neighbours hope
that the embarrassment may stop.
But the scuffles and races must have been too brief
to take the hoarseness out of his throb.
He still calls and disgusted women shush him
2- Nandini Dhar
Here’s a bit from her poem ‘Preface‘ in Almost Island.
Uncle says, we were both heavy.
Like welding machines, the last
hour of silence before dawn.
Mother smashes a medicine-bottle against the wall
because grandfather has called her a goddess.
The liquid red, like fresh blood
on the kitchen floor.
3- Sumana Roy
Here’s a bit from ‘Are you lonesome tonight?‘ at Poetry at Sangam.
The door opens itself
into a cave: it holds
a lover’s night.
A caged monsoon.
The room is its own
prisoner. It handcuffs
a silence to the bed.
4- Anindita Sengupta
Here’s a bit from her poem ‘We left Bombay to start over‘ in Mascara Literary Review.
A stampede was due.
We left because there was money to be made
in a city with thighs of steel. We left
because hope is tiny and lodges
between a man’s ribs like cancer. But mostly,
we left because we were promised things.
We flew south like geese, twigged a nest
in the outsider neighborhood.
Flyovers flayed the city
but none would hook us across.
We didn’t know that then.
5- Manjiri Indurkar
Here’s a bit from her poem ‘Knees and Elbows, Elbows and Knees‘ in Aainangar.
It is difficult to sit with folded legs
During the summer nights
I feel the urge to touch the sweat
That gathers between the knee joints
When the calves touch the thighs
And they perspire together, like a conspiracy.
A joint venture
My elbows are dark and the skin is coarse
Maa gives me a lemon to scrub them
If I do it every day, I can fix them.
But I don’t.