Tag: Gurugram

Meeting poets outside their poems is like catching hold of a dandelion
always fleeting and flying.
fanning our desires to be light and liberated.

I met a poet in the wee hours of spring yesterday,
wrapped in thoughts,
inhaling more matter,
processing many ideas,
looked much like her poems,
blooming and how!

I met a poet in the early hours of baisakh*,
smelling like toil,
sprinkled with joy
of harvesting goodness,
just like his poems,
emanating courage and thick-skinned demeanour.

I met a poet walking briskly early morning,
panting and perspiring
due to swift movement
but also, gasping to let the poetry ooze out.
Her poetry is quick
Because the pace of her steps mirrors the pace of the gazillion words
plodding in her mind.

I met a poet chewing a gummy one day,
lost in her own reverie
absolutely chill,
rummaging her bag for more such gummyfying trysts,
sitting in a bean sofa with pen and paper
scribbling and doodling away her worries
just like that!

I met a poet engrossed in thrift shopping the other day
clad in comfort, spotting the comfort
not to discomfort his hard-earned moolah
but the words in his poems are priceless.
Because they reveal what being a parent is like.
The experience is valuable and so is his poetry,
causing ripples here and there,
echoing babbles now and then.

So, now you know where to spot poets.
When not absorbed in writing,
spot the happy souls or the dejected ones
in spring,
in the by-lanes of your colony,
or a high-end bar busy chewing a gummy.
Poets are fascinating.
Poets are otherworldly.
But how do you match the poets with their poetry?
How to remove the veil?
The make-believe.
The façade.
The art.
Please, tell me.
Because poets outside their poems
might be catching butterflies 
or responding to a cooing baby.
But exactly how do you match the poets with their poetry?


*April-May