Hi readers! This is a poem about the sky, in particular those skies that inspire us to just look up in dumbstruck wonder. Hope you enjoy it (see full poem below the image). Twilight Kissed by Shreya Manna Who wove this fabric, this work of art That stretches across the sky? Is it a sheet…
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I’m in a new apprenticeship – Not any intellectual shit, Reading ‘how to be a human’ lit: so flip to page 1, where I find it hard, really no way I can discard, this overconfidence in my inferiority. Too many syllables, (may not be believable) but it’s true. I cannot see the “awesome kid” inside…
Read MoreInspired by the Cloud Atlas End Title Where is home? Nothing stays still. Usually I run towards the horizon, and time plays tag with me Pulling me forward, and forward And forward. One day, I think, I’ll say: tag! But I’ll be tagged myself, and it will be time to leave this world. But sometimes…
Read MoreHello, it’s been a while since I last posted! I’ve been away to focus on my first term of second year studying English at The University of Oxford, as well as mental health. On one hand, I’ve been doing a lot of academic writing these past few months – such is the nature of the…
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Do you know what the device you are holding is made of? I didn’t, until the thought occurred to me when I was writing this blog post. A few clicks later, I arrived at my laptop manufacturer’s website to look for more details. It turns out that the parts made of aluminium and tin are…
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I had conflicting feelings about sharing this poem. The seeming atmosphere of outrage around us doesn’t seem to encourage self-reflection. Almost everyone will have seen memes about the ways in which 2020 has been a catastrophic year – a deadly disease transforming work, if not stopping it all together, the Black Lives matter movement catching…
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A post about the role that blogging, writing and the study of Literature plays during a pandemic like coronavirus.
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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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A poem about water-forms.
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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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