1. Exceptional baby: Not even a whimper after the first inhale of the earth and its indefatigable spirit? – Pg 6 2. All things green; a year of not choosing
Every night, I invent a new story about Johnny Bear to narrate to my daughter. Though she thinks that it is an imaginary bear, I know for sure that a
My name is Kavya Janani.Today I feel like a soft poem basking in the sunlight.Sometimes I am a thunderstorm.Sometimes I am an oyster.But always I am grounded.I ask the world,
What if I went into child’s pose and just stayed there…until the end of the year?You see, I’ll never be a meal prep girl.I much prefer the agony and the
Not a day passes withoutmy heart constricting or my lips quivering tospill every square inch of my life into mypoems. Every day could be a battlefield, everyhour a symphony or
Introduction to poetry(after Billy Collins) I ask them to hold a poemlike a prismand watch it refract coloursthey can’t imagine or just sonograph its heart. I say send a bee
Tip, tip, tip, fall each drop of rain.Melodies take birth in my heart.Drops on my page, forming an inkstain.I’ll turn this moment into art,traverse on the wet roads in a
This serenityis notan occasionalglimmer. My daysare brewingin thisrepose. If you hadmet mea few monthsago,I’d have beenclothedin anguish. What cameover me?If I know,I’ll let youknow. Right now,my heartsoarslike analbatross. A permanentseason
Please describe how you became a writer(after Naomi Shihab Nye) My classmates never bothered to look at the trees.Even the teachers ignored them.I kept asking them to look at how
The crescent moon perchesatop my spine,tilting along with my rhythm ofcat…cow…cat…cow…cat…cow…Infusing mirthful vibes,it slides away from my back,as I flatten on the earth.It becomes a silent spectator,while I shapeshift into