Indian English Literature, Literary Criticism and Theory – Learning and Creativity

Literary criticism -a call to be bolder, innovative and fearless and to take it forward instead of keeping within older patterns and limits-in short there is scope for thinking out of the box anyday. An excellent essay by Dr. Ampat Koshy.

Indian English Literature, Literary Criticism and Theory – Learning and Creativity.

Roots Of Despair

The banyan grows either way
catching the sun and sky within its leafy trough
while uncombed, knotted; its unruly hair
searches for a soil
Some days it grows in me
pushing its gnarled apologies
out through my chest
wind-milling them all around me
till I am breathless
‘Roots must never be bared’
it whispers

If you uncover yourselves
to the extent of your roots,
you lay a double trap
He fumbles-out of his depth
and proceeds to weed you up
digging fresh pits to push you in
to accommodate your history

No matter how deep your roots have burrowed
or despite how many break in the struggle
to hold on to the remembered earth
he is proud of his newest rose bush
and while death creeps up soft upon you
from under the ground
sapping your greens of vitality
spreading the stench of regret,
he expects you to hold up your end
with your blooms intact
though the soil fails to force feed your stricken gut
and the earthworms slink away
from your black, tangled rot of despair
©Reena Prasad

Keralite Writing in English-II | Literature DIY | Dr Ampat Koshy

 Enjoyed this article thoroughly. I have read almost all the poets and writers who find a mention here and as always I am amazed at the deft analysis and the broad yet comprehensive approach covering such a vast area and bringing it all together under the umbrella of subversive, different, unique and startlingly refreshing writing. Panjami Anand’s poem like many more of hers is superb, honest writing and she is sure to leave her mark in the annals of great writing. The article rocks as does its writer.

Keralite Writing in English-II | Literature DIY | Dr Ampat Koshy.

Poetry and Keralite Writing in English – 1 – Learning and Creativity

An absorbing article, not only because I figure in it but because of the depth of analysis and a rational, comprehensive look at the chaotic scenario of Indians (with focus on Keralites) writing and trying to write in English today. With a sense of blessedness and deepest gratitude, I thank Dr Ampat Koshy for the article, mention, for the poem and link(Autumn resurrected) and for his guidance and encouragement that has been vital to my writing always. Looking forward to the next one with unbridled enthusiasm!

Poetry and Keralite Writing in English – 1 – Learning and Creativity.

NaPoWriMo 30 The Lost Art Of Solitude

NaPoWriMo 30

The Lost Art Of Solitude

She chases away the pigeons from the window sill
weeds out tiny plants growing in the tomato’s shade
complains about the sun being hot
and the wind chilly
but hates it equally if they are not
Shoos away
playful cats, kids and any novel ideas
The vegetables, never fresh enough for her
nor the cooking ever to her taste
She grumbles of how books take up space
and sneezes whenever her grandchild plays with
magical dust beams streaming in from the window
The rain seems to always rub her the wrong way
whether it falls or not

The television is the brainiest of all
never stopping its chatter
giving her no time to open her grumble box

She doesn’t know/like herself much
never having made time to sit and have a coffee
with herself
and to make peace with the things
she cannot change

Frightened of the ‘noise’ of solitude
she tries to drown its insistent silence
with words several decibels higher
for as she ages
all the shooing works
and she is left in peace by all
leaving her no choice
but to listen to the incessant pounding
of a strange heart

Reena Prasad

NaPoWriMo 28 Deceptive

NaPoWriMo 28


We live
slicing life
into chunks of presumptions
of what each time frame might fetch

A finite number of years to play
a few for forgetting the joys of it
some to be selfish and selfless
all at once – call it love
a few for moving on
a stretch of mere subsistence
ignoring clouds that hang around
waiting in vain
to take the shape of imaginations
and soon despair settles in
like dust over cities at dusk

Deceptions galore
The way we give up on seasons
before they flower
The way we let life go gray
blindly telescoping into each other
ignoring life spilling all over the place
trespassing over our incompetent gridlines
©Reena Prasad

NaPoWriMo 24 Metamorphosis

NaPoWriMo 24


You said- leave the dishes
I cannot wait
Come sit beside me
your head on my chest
Let me feel your breath
I have been away all day

Your fingers locked mine
in a mock duel-play
The TV remained lifeless
The curtain flapped breezily
A full-bodied moon saw red
as you laid me back and
your finger traced a swollen lip

Then one winter
you grew wings

The TV talks relentlessly
The window wheezes dust, its view smothered
The moon sullied, lurks in salty pools
The curtain misses a certain breeze

My fingers have forgotten the
feel of any other
Of a held breath and a skipped beat
there is no return address
Where your chest was, lies a pillow

You no longer say anything sweet
nor stop me from doing the dishes

Now I cannot wait
for the last spring to come
to grow my own wings
©Reena Prasad

NaPoWriMo 23 If Only I Could

NaPoWriMo 23

If only I could sleep at night

There is an image in my heart
a book that superimposes upon my dreams
A man waits under a tree
in the dark, in the rain

There are no trees outside
The night’s too dark for a man to be seen
and ages since it last rained

Despite the dearth, the image persists
leading me on with this intrigue
what if the book is about us
and he waits
only for me to turn the leaf?

If only I could sleep at night
and read the page where we meet
©Reena Prasad