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  Review of Rachel Bari’s “Body, Mind and other poems”                                           -  Dr Shweta Garg, Associate Professor, DAIICT, Gandhinagar, Gujarat Signorina Publications, 2020, New Delhi ISBN : 978-81-945657-2-7 Price: INR 249/- Pp -73   Rachel Bari’s poetic offering is replete with ruminations on her lived experience as a woman. Bari, though a professor of English, deliberately strives for simplicity of language and thought rather than using obtuse scholarly jargons. As a result, her volume of 45 verses delights in its conversational, matter-of-fact observations on a range of themes related to “mind” like writing, creation, language, gender politics and “body” like motherhood, love, ageing,and,even death.Many of her poems from the collection evaluate her own uneasy relationship, as an Indian feminist, with the Euro-American brand of feminism. Sometimes there is a spark of rebellion, and sometimes painful acceptance of conventions,and yet sometimes, s

After kitchen...

  After kitchen, what creativity? The sound of running water And the clink    of dishes Waiting to be scrubbed  Leaves no room for any Music of creativity. The mess in the kitchen counter The basket of veggies waiting To be chopped and diced The knife menacing but pliant In the hands of the chopper  Has no role in creativity  But to shape rhe cut of veggies. The smell inspires no fragrance As onions are set to peel And the garlic..huh! What whiff will inspire Lyrics , o muse of creativity? You lurk in colors ,fragrances In deep ravines, lofty mountains Gurgling waters, icy and clear Crisp leaves green Autumn and    fall inspires Verses and songs, You vanish within the kitchen  Lost amidst the long lines Of masalas kept in line Adding colour and fragrance Only to curries  But not to verses My verses dry and shrivil up Like curry leaves thrown  Into hot oil. Budding words shrivel up Never to bloom amidst The cacophony of noises Emanating from the cooker, The pan, the scrub and  The dripp

pencil sketch - pandemic watch

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one more .....acryllic

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one of my paintings .... acrylic   
  Faith People mocked me for not being a good christian, i wonder what that is. A day shall dawn, they say when you shall seek the Lord. when did i not? All this with contempt when was this new? Too many things lose sheen a shudder has passed too often. How should i tell them i need no House to seek solace in, No hymn to sing praises, No thanksgiving for all that i received, with just a prayer on my lips and grace in my being i can only be me
  A sad time Now that it’s done And a structure which Under its name Hopes to bring together A people Is built. What then? You build a kingdom Of faith On the ruins of another. Not much different from What happened then History will tell you Of kingdoms built, razed What of the hearts hurt Ideals razed? Will history answer? One day when pages turn To re narrate the country From the ruins of hearts Which happened Will history bend in Shame? Are you sure that The structure you build Today Will stand tomorrow? Isn’t history testimony? The arrogance of a kingdom Turns to ashes quickly As day turns into night As did happen this day Night turns into dawn To bring new morrow The sun shines on the kingdom                                               ðŸ˜¢ðŸ˜¢ And also on the ashes. The ashes drift away The ruins have a story None will know the truth of As the ashes are blown away So will a kingdom, country What after all is a structure? An idea is all that remains Cluttered somewhere Until another