Intact.. and also in shreds - Poems of Aparna Anekvarna.
https://www.merakipatrika.com/2015/04/aparna-anekvarna.html
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Aparna Anekvarna |
It is not often that
one comes across a person as prolific as Aparna Anekvarna. Along with being an
excellent poetess who writes in both English as well as Hindi, she is also an
amazing artist. Her poems and her sketches make a formidable combination that
you cannot help but appreciate. These poems will help you look at this world
with a new perspective. Random things that we take for granted like a mother’s
prayer or nectar and flowers become poetic and worthy of notice. Another thing
that sets these poems apart is the portrayal of love not as an emotion
experienced only when two people are together but as an omnipotent feeling that
can get inspired by the blue poppy or newspaper and tea. Read on and witness
how the age old lines - 'God is in his
heaven/and all is well with my world.' get imbued with a new meaning.
Beyond Her Scars
A silver
river runs on the face of the moon.
Criss-crossing
it..
Dinosaurs,
Kalidas, Mohawks and Neil Armstrong.
they all
have seen it
So have
you and me..
A few
drops melted and touched her face years ago
And an
alter-image singed its way on it..
For days..
silver
burned a livid red against her tan..
Time
nursed and she healed
The lava
is cold now.. the stream is at peace..
Yet she
feels it throbbing now n then..
'reassuring'
her of its presence..
She had
resented, she fought...
And then..
she realised..
She was
the chosen one,
The
closest to the moon
They both
carry the same identity card --
'Scarred
and Beautiful'
An Afghan Girl
a tiger
lurks
in her tawny gaze..
they think
they have it
all tamed..
I shudder
at the steel touch
of truth..
my eyes smart
and skin crawls..
truth 'flaunts'
its tiger-stench..
within her seven veils
she roars..
her iris cracks
and stays intact..
she lives her
glass-like life..
intact.. and also
in shreds.
in her tawny gaze..
they think
they have it
all tamed..
I shudder
at the steel touch
of truth..
my eyes smart
and skin crawls..
truth 'flaunts'
its tiger-stench..
within her seven veils
she roars..
her iris cracks
and stays intact..
she lives her
glass-like life..
intact.. and also
in shreds.
I shall return
I close everyday
life rears its ugly head
yet again..
on wings
of
migratory birds
winter rides in
I feel it in my bones
migratory birds
winter rides in
I feel it in my bones
back home
in a bamboo thicket
rests my umblical cord
awaiting my return..
in a bamboo thicket
rests my umblical cord
awaiting my return..
I shall
one day
like winter.. return..
to become whole
before getting undone
like winter.. return..
to become whole
before getting undone
a
primitive mist
awaits me there
a native..
I shall return.
awaits me there
a native..
I shall return.
Life's sweet temptations
life's
sweet
temptations
begin with being
finger licking good!
sweet
temptations
begin with being
finger licking good!
I look
back in
craving
satiation
regret
craving
satiation
regret
held
captive..
later,
I stare at
the emptiness..
wrappers litter
around.
later,
I stare at
the emptiness..
wrappers litter
around.
promises
wrapped in
over indulgence
laced with
a bitter
aftertaste
wrapped in
over indulgence
laced with
a bitter
aftertaste
often I
forget to read the fine line
'comes with bitter pills'
forget to read the fine line
'comes with bitter pills'
nothing political about it
soft
saffron robes he always wore..
in his ears, thick brown rings
on a happy moon face..
he had Santa-eyes twinkling
his wooden sandal.. the carved teak stick
I just died to touch.. almost everything
in his ears, thick brown rings
on a happy moon face..
he had Santa-eyes twinkling
his wooden sandal.. the carved teak stick
I just died to touch.. almost everything
he would
call me near for prasad..
I would never ever miss
a laddoo each in both the hands
eventually melted in my fist..
a sandal tika on forehead
cold at first.. later powdery dry
my mumbled thanks.. made them laugh
I felt special.. and also terribly shy
I would never ever miss
a laddoo each in both the hands
eventually melted in my fist..
a sandal tika on forehead
cold at first.. later powdery dry
my mumbled thanks.. made them laugh
I felt special.. and also terribly shy
that is
all I can recall
coz then I would just about fly
chasing his pet rabbit..
calling out, 'dhawal' ..come to play
I was 6.. he 53.. 37 years gone by..
news is in.. he was unwell I realise in dismay
after years of illness.. old age..
four days back.. he had passed away
coz then I would just about fly
chasing his pet rabbit..
calling out, 'dhawal' ..come to play
I was 6.. he 53.. 37 years gone by..
news is in.. he was unwell I realise in dismay
after years of illness.. old age..
four days back.. he had passed away
leaping
decades, suddenly
comes alive a taste not so stale..
of milky sweet cardamom tea
with my grandfather and the seer,
almost every other morning..
I had with out fail.. I had with out fail..
comes alive a taste not so stale..
of milky sweet cardamom tea
with my grandfather and the seer,
almost every other morning..
I had with out fail.. I had with out fail..
I shed my skin
Images,
Inside..
Outside..
Lift up, swirl, vapourise..
Inside..
Outside..
Lift up, swirl, vapourise..
The shell
Trembles..
Expands..
Into a perfect emptiness..
Trembles..
Expands..
Into a perfect emptiness..
Limits
dissolve..
Horizon recedes further
Even more further..
As I meet..
Yet another newer me.
Horizon recedes further
Even more further..
As I meet..
Yet another newer me.
Once
more..
I shed my skin..
To walk into
the almost perfect
Heaven of nothingness.
I shed my skin..
To walk into
the almost perfect
Heaven of nothingness.
In prayer
10 in the
morning
her eyes closed
her face calm
sitting in 'padmasan'
on an old deer skin
ma prays
her eyes closed
her face calm
sitting in 'padmasan'
on an old deer skin
ma prays
her hair
open
on her back..
little droplets wet
her bright blue drape
but not for long
open
on her back..
little droplets wet
her bright blue drape
but not for long
the
flowers
the bhog of
'mishri-kishmish'
the sandal paste
the lamp, the wick, the flame
the fragrance rises in
abstract patterns
from the dhoop stick
a slow ballet of their own
the bhog of
'mishri-kishmish'
the sandal paste
the lamp, the wick, the flame
the fragrance rises in
abstract patterns
from the dhoop stick
a slow ballet of their own
I hear her
chant
Sanskrit was never so divine
as it forms sounds
and echoes off me
pulling me inside
the invisible waves
that she magically makes
Sanskrit was never so divine
as it forms sounds
and echoes off me
pulling me inside
the invisible waves
that she magically makes
my eyes
well up
in an undefined love
and affection so deep
watching my mother pray
is how I pray..
with her around
'god is in his heaven
and all is well with my world.'
in an undefined love
and affection so deep
watching my mother pray
is how I pray..
with her around
'god is in his heaven
and all is well with my world.'
Words don't assault anymore
skeletons
of words
destroyed letters
lie scattered..
slaughtered..
a slow death..
destroyed letters
lie scattered..
slaughtered..
a slow death..
meanings..
forever lost
bleached brittle.. fragile
over exposure makes sure
double sure
bleached brittle.. fragile
over exposure makes sure
double sure
not very
long ago..
they had skin..fur..feather..
fangs and claws..
life..
and meaning..
they had skin..fur..feather..
fangs and claws..
life..
and meaning..
radio hums
with useless chatter..
newspapers yellow in shame.,
start inventing some more
wordsmith!!
newspapers yellow in shame.,
start inventing some more
wordsmith!!
for words
don't assault anymore
Reds
cherries
she wore
as
earrings
her cheeks
mimicked the reds
(the
'cherry picking' scene from DH Lawrence's 'Sons and Lovers' has stayed with me
ever since I first read it.. )
Comfort
my feet
warm
beneath
your feet
your eyes
holding mine
Nectar
sunbirds..
bees..
butterflies..
give
nectar
its
meaning
Our quiet moments
morning
tea laced with
crisp
newspaper-rustle
we sip
together
our quiet
moments
Drink
1 part
Vodka
2 parts
orange juice
on the
rocks..
screwdriver
for world
poetry for
us
'the kiss'
licking
off
saline
sorrows
turtles
know 'butterfly-kiss'
dream-catcher
my dreams,
they flee
I gather
strands of prayers
weave a
dream-catcher
just for
me..
blue poppy
first
poppy blooms
blue..
spring
opens eyes
on
Himalayan snows
ABOUT THE POETESS
Aparna Anekvarna
(Aparna Srivastav Bhagat) hometown: Gorakhpur. education: MA (English
Literature) Lives in New Delhi with her family. She is a homemaker. Has worked
with a film production company and Delhi-Midday newspaper for five years. Has
been writing poetry in Hindi and English since two years. Her Hindi poems have
found place in four literary magazines, many literary blogs and three
anthologies. Her English micro poems have been selected to be published in
'Seize the Poem: An Anthology'.
All the sketches are by Aparna Anekvarna.
Aparna,found you to be a magical lyric. Simply enthralled by in prayer, I shed my skin and so on. Your sketches make you truly a phenomenal human creator. And your eyes... Many must have drowned.
ReplyDeletethanks a lot Sujata ji.
DeleteAparna,found you to be a magical lyric. Simply enthralled by in prayer, I shed my skin and so on. Your sketches make you truly a phenomenal human creator. And your eyes... Many must have drowned.
ReplyDeleteReading aparna's poem is a journey of deep, heart touching but simple words and emotions. Found Her sketches very verbal . Amazing work.
ReplyDeleteVery very nice
ReplyDelete