A post about the role that blogging, writing and the study of Literature plays during a pandemic like coronavirus.
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All articles filed in Writing
Self-Song – A Poem
Today is the Bengali New Year (Shubho Noboborsho or Poila Boishak). Since people from West Bengal mark this festivity as a time of auspicious beginnings, I thought that I should write a poem to mark a sacred beginning of my own creation.
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Water-Forms Poetry Project: Final Poem
A poem about water-forms.
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Water-Forms Poetry Project – Part 1
Hello again, I’m back with (more) attempts at writing poetry and an update about starting Hilary Term (i.e. Term 2) at Oxford. Since I’ve been gone, I’ve been writing away for our weekly essays about everything including the lives of saints in Old English up until the modernist experiments of T.S. Eliot. I’ve taken up…
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Falling in Love – A Poem
Trees spilling with boughs of white flowers Like bright eyes, shrouded in the waxy palms of leaves I watch some fall, stolen by the breeze, I watch them fall (in love). Petals unfurling, they embrace the dusk with open arms, sprinkling the earth. Hush. Listen to them land: tiny, soft blankets for unseen slumbering fairies.…
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Home: A Poem
I wrote this poem in light of the events in the news recently that have made the word ‘home’ a politically charged one, and also as a memory of my personal experiences that put into question what home might be.
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An English Literature Workshop with Myself, Age 14
Humbling, funny and cringeworthy – that was my experience of writing this scene imagining myself as a mentor to a teenage version of myself. For all the earnest young writers and English students out there!
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The Dress: A Fairytale…Or Is It? – A Short Story by Shreya Manna
In childhood, it’s possible for us to see, even believe, in the magic of fairytales. But as we grow older, there’s no reason why we can’t take our grown-up problems and laugh at them, thanks to the superpower that being human gives us: the power to tell stories. This fairytale is really a story I wrote for myself, to capture the circus of our minds that only we can hear.
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Unperfection, A Poem
Unperfection by Shreya Manna Teaching myself how to unperfection Reminds me of that time I tried to do A water slide and chickened out only To sheepishly return because The queue I spotted on the other side Was way too long. And I was hoping To return to earth sometime very soon. In the little…
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Sapling in the Woods (A Poem)
Beneath my feet are crunching leaves, martyrs to the world’s law, And above me the canopy, shaking leafy branches in a tribal dance, Like a million green eyelashes in the sky’s eyes Nobody is listening. The gnarled limbs of the trees spread to claim the sky Gather the sun like gold, loot, I look up…
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