Birthing Poetry
Introduction to my poetry collection, Being Born Book details: My first tongue is poetry. Long before the writing of stories, my initiation into the creative cosmos of writing happened…
Some People Never Change
20 years later, Alfred Nambiar is back on Coal Island. 20 is nothing, not even half an eye-blink, but the human head has distorted time, it has stopped learning from…
This World
In the most complex moments, the best language available is poetry. It’s hard not to consider events, global or local, from wars to socio-cultural/ethnic injustices, and remain grounded; poetry is…
Choosing
By accident, I stumbled upon a YouTube video. Well, I doubt many things are accidental on the interweb these days. A single click—yes, by accident—can determine the future of your…
Ode to Earrings
I’m obsessed with odes. Odes celebrate, elevate, magnify. They treat their subjects as though they are the only things that exist. They insist on focused attention. I like them so…
“I And This Mystery, Here We Stand”
It would happen on nights gloomier and quieter than usual. Tucked in bed, my mother beside me, squirming in the unique way children do when they get metaphysical: what are…
“No Human Heart Is Made For Crowds”
Malikka told me when she was wiping oil off my back that I was talking about the human heart in my sleep. They assigned me to be her burden after…
Post-Op: Dear Kali
Recuperation has opened me to a world of care, of the slowing down of time, of discerning what success and healing actually mean. I’ve not been able to do too…
The Human Body is Remarkable
I Eat Fears
Once when I was 10, I had a few luxurious hours alone at home. It was bright daylight. The height of afternoon, I think. There was no identifiable danger lurking…