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Poem: Hiatus - Sailing through the wild territories, yearning to survive each day with ease, I embrace the cruel kindness and move on in the pursuit of an alchemy of my own.
Living in a detached world
Where everything looks whirled
Weaving my own tapestries of life
I move on with the routine strife
Sailing through the wild territories,
Yearning to survive each day with ease,
I embrace the cruel kindness and move on
In the pursuit of an alchemy of my own.
Buried in the barren dreams
enslaving the life’s extremes,
I gear up for a solitary travel
A journey within myself to unravel.
My feminine identity always craves for an updated version
That can nullify the effect of despair and aversion
I wish for something in intensity
I am annoyed with my unexciting entity.
The unchanging syllable of my throbbing heart
longs for the umbilical cord that is torn apart
The orbit of obsession engulfed by an unrequited void
Slowly teaches me to master the mystery I can never avoid!
The newfound emptiness brightens the cherished desires in me
The medley of emotions, only my tender soul can see.
The one-year-old mother’s journey and the euphoria of creation
Instilled in me a sense of boundless vibration
In the sweet and sour cadences of nights and days
I spend my ephemeral moments in your ethereal daze
From the ennui of everyday life, you release me on bail
The aroma of your newborn innocence, I too inhale.
Image source: Vladimir Vladimirov,
Anvik Baby's Mom/ An Assistant Professor in English/ Author of 'Musings of Venus'/ A Freelance Journalist. Above all, an epic weirdo with an unfading zest for life and its exhilarating/exhausting journeys! read more...
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Neena was the sole caregiver of Amma and though one would think that Amma was dependent on her, Neena felt otherwise.
Neena inhaled the aroma that emanated from the pan and took a deep breath. The aroma of cumin interspersed with butter transported her back to the modest kitchen in her native village. She could picture her father standing in the kitchen wearing his white crisp kurta as he made delectable concoctions for his only daughter.
Neena grew up in a home where both her parents worked together in tandem to keep the house up and running. She had a blissful childhood in her modest two-room house. The house was small but every nook and cranny gave her memories of a lifetime. Neena’s young heart imagined that her life would follow the same cheerful course. But how wrong she was!
When she was sixteen, the catastrophic clutches of destiny snatched away her parents. They passed away in a road accident and Neena was devastated. Relatives thronged her now gloomy house and soon it was decided that she should be married off.
Being a writer, Nivedita Louis recognises the struggles of a first-time woman writer and helps many articulate their voice with development, content edits as a publisher.
“I usually write during night”, says author Nivedita Louis during our conversation. Chuckling she continues,” It’s easier then to focus solely on writing. Nivedita Louis is a writer, with varied interests and one of the founders of Her Stories, a feminist publishing house, based in Chennai.
In a candid conversation she shared her journey from small-town Tamil Nadu to becoming a history buff, an award-winning author and now a publisher.
Nivedita was born and raised in a small town in Tamil Nadu. It was for schooling that she first arrived in Chennai. Then known as Madras, she recalls being awed by the city. Her love-story with the city, its people and thus began which continues till date. She credits her perseverance and passion to make a difference to her days as a vocational student among the elite sections of Madras.
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