Showing posts with label Vinita Agrawal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vinita Agrawal. Show all posts

Vinita Agrawal (Diaspora Dual Identities)

Vinita Agrawal

What if I looked beneath the A4 sheet of your thoughts?

 

What if I peeled back the map of this place,

would I find the ghost of my homeland,

a faint watermark beneath its streets?

 

If the sound of my name mispronounced had a colour,

would it be fractured gold;

a glimmer of recognition, but never whole?

 

And the taste of a word I cannot speak,

would it be bitterroot

lodged in my throat like a stone?

 

The colour of the sky when I first arrived,

its unfamiliar hue pressing down,

was it grey or just the weight of distance?

 

Laughter shared without language,

surely that was translucent blue,

thin as hope, but holding?

 

The flea market at dawn, its chaos and clamour,

was it just the pulse of life

beating louder than my loneliness?

 

My reflection in a shop window,

a face out of place, a shadow among shadows

was it just the light of belonging refusing to settle on me?

 

When I dream of home, its streets, skies and smells,

is it just the ache of memory

fading like ink in the rain?

 

Beneath the surface of this foreign soil,

would I find the roots of my own becoming,

tangled and tender?

 

Would I be reaching for the sun

or just the dry bones of what I left behind,

whispering ochre sand, ochre sand?

 

 

Foreign Land

 

Something arresting the weight of trespass

in a foreign land.

 

Something in the deep indigo of twilight

or the faint blush of dawn.

 

Something like a horizon cradled by memories

trembling like a prayer flag in the wind.

 

Something chanting tales of forgotten trails,

of an earth left behind, of rivers shackled.

 

Something like a single thread of prayer,

spun thin, piercing the soul.

 

Something tracing the last arc

of an eagle’s flight in the homeland.

 

Something haloing the mountains, softly

making silence bearable.

 

 

Vinita Agrawal has authored six books of poetry and edited two anthologies on climate change. She is the recipient of the Jayanta Mahapatra National Award for Literature 2024, the Proverse Prize Hongkong 2021, the Rabindranath Tagore Literary Prize 2018 and the Gayatri GaMarsh Memorial Award for Literary Excellence, USA, 2015. She co-edits the Yearbook series of Indian Poetry in English. She was former Poetry Editor with Usawa Literary Review. She is on the Advisory Board of the Tagore Literary Prize. www.vinitawords.com)

Vinita Agrawal (Children's World)

Vinita Agrawal
Toady

The little toad by the lagoon
Lived alone under a mushroom
In rains when worms ran for shelter 
Butterflies flew helter-skelter
Toady called them to share his room.

Now it so happened one bright day
the scorching sun was bright and gay
Toady was so hot he could cry
His warty skin began to dry
Water was must to keep heat at bay.


Fish and crabs invited him in
Water did sooth his shiny skin
Naturally he plonked right inside
Bliss, to feel water on all sides!
The sun wouldn’t make his dermis thin.

Helping others is a fine thing
It does makes you feel like a king
Be nice to everyone around
It’ll cheer you up on the rebound
So, go give out a happy ping!



Bio Note: Vinita Agrawal

Vinita’s latest collection of poems The Natural Language of Grief was the winner of the Proverse Prize 2021. She is Poetry Editor with Usawa. She co edits the Yearbook series of Indian Poetry in English. She is on the Advisory Board of the Tagore Literary Prize and is on various councils for social justice.


Vinita Agrawal: Poetry (Voices Within 2021)

Vinita Agrawal is the author of four books of poetry, - Two Full Moons (Bombaykala Books), Words Not Spoken (Brown Critique), The Longest Pleasure (Finishing Line Press) and The Silk Of Hunger (AuthorsPress), Vinita is an award winning poet, editor, translator and curator. Joint Recipient of the Rabindranath Tagore Literary Prize 2018 and winner of the Gayatri GaMarsh Memorial Award for Literary Excellence, USA, 2015. She is Poetry Editor with Usawa Literary Review. Her work has been widely published and anthologised. In September 2020, she edited an anthology on climate change titled Open Your Eyes (pub. Hawakal). She is on the Advisory Board of the Tagore Literary Prize. She has curated literary events for PEN Mumbai. She can be reached at www.vinitawords.com


A Feminist Poem

Arms are weapons for survival.
Just because you're here
Just because you didn't ask to be here.
And now you must fight.
Every breath, a battle,
every curve of womanhood, a play ground.
Fortunes not disclosed.
Victories not acknowledged.

Naive of you to think
that filigreed amulets
carved bracelets, gold-silver bangles
were what arms are for.
No. Arms are wielders of fate.

Fingers pointing skyward
fists whamming through hearts of stone, 
balled and socketed to shoulders
aching to shed burdens of the vagina.
Arms want no ornaments, these arms.
All they want is an arm's length of distance 
from hooded cobras of exploitation
or else they want a mace 
that recognises bad blood.
***


Dying 

The steel-cold hands of death
make a log out of a body
that when placed 
on a lattice of wood
doesn’t feel the scorch of fire
when torched.

Serenity, unruffled by searing.

Like fathers and forefathers before us
this passing is impassive.
Our absence swims in the eyes 
of those who love us -
a rain of precious water.
***


For Ma

Often we watched the rain swollen clouds 
from our terrace,
our upturned faces lighting up
as slowly they slid out of the skies
to unwrap a quilt of brilliant stars.

Now you're a star, yourself. 
Icy cold by my window
closer to the clouds than to me.
Alone, I watch you,
the brightest star
and feel the falling rain 
with which you touch me.
***


Immigrants 

To forsake your roots,
to drift from place to place
language to language
culture to culture 
to bring nothing of your own where you are
except a sorry desire 
to be accepted as one of 'them',
is true nakedness.

To be rootless is to be vulnerable
like a sapling deprived of soil
or an unfired clay pot. 
It means you always stand apart 
from a relaxed conglomerate of people
who laugh and joke about ordinary things
while you shift like an autumn leaf
rustling aimlessly on alien soil.
Unmourned by the tree.
not particularly welcomed by the ground.

Yours is a small lightweight existence
like a bonsai:
flowering and glimmering in the smallest of spaces
on just a spoonful of water.


Vinita Agrawal, INDIA

Exclusive: Best of Women Poetry: Edited by Padmaja Iyengar-Paddy
Vinita Agrawal
GIRL TO WOMAN

The journey from girl to woman
is a hundred slivers of a whole.
The spot of red at thirteen,
iconic of a finished girlhood.
A strange silence sweeping the body.

Girl to woman,
a knock on the door of something.
Innocence dissipating
like life from a corpse.

Something harsh
listening to the tangle of her growing up.
A wolf listening for a rabbit.

But once she comes into her own,
she preserves the light of early morning in her hair.
Sets aside an infinity of space for lunar madness.

On those days she curls upon herself
and lies on dreams soft like grass beneath a body.
Her lips, a precipice,
her voice, a shape that fills heads.

She is
what she left behind in your eyes:
an unclouded face.

She won't trade touch for love.
but if love is what she feels
she might fill her womb with your life.



Vinita Agrawal, a Mumbai-based author of four books of poetry, was the editor of a women’s journal for three years. She is the recipient of the Gayatri GaMarsh Memorial Award for Literary Excellence-2015, USA, the second prize at the TallGrass Writers Guild Award-2017, Chicago, the third prize in the Hongkong Proverse Poetry Prize-2017, the All India Poetry Commendation Award-2014 and The Hour Of Writes Award.  Her work has been widely published and anthologised. She has curated literary events for Kala Ghoda Arts Festival 2020. She curates a literary event every month for PEN@Prithvi. She is on the advisory board of the Tagore Literary Prize.

Best of Women Poetry -2020 :: Setu, March 2020

Vinita Agrawal (Voices Within)

Vinita Agrawal is an award winning author of four books of poetry. Her work has been widely published and anthologised. She was editor of TheWomanInc for three years. Her poem won the Tall Grass Writers Guild Award, Chicago and the Proverse Hongkong Poetry Prize. She was also awarded the Gayatri GaMarsh Prize for literary excellence. She curates literary events for PEN Mumbai. She has assisted in curating a section of the Kala Ghoda Arts Festival 2020. She is on the advisory board of the Tagore Literary Prize. 


Mumbai 

A very dark sky but no rain 
and the burden of knowing too much.

Cramped, shadowy spaces,
living-units in short supply.

Mumbai -
where a room is a house.

A solitary nameplate 
against a solitary pigeon hole.

Men dream of wheat fields
women of fresh air and sweat-free afternoons.

They want to raise english-speaking kids here.
The sun-dolloped, Laburnum sea cushions their aches.

Local trains hoot through the suffocation, 
commuters lolling from splayed doors like tongues

for breeze, just breeze.


The Traveller Inside You

Not everyone knows what it means
that pale opal play of light 
on which a cartographer leans
as he sails away one night.

What does he hope for when clear 
that death curates the tide of life?
When biennales mark with a smear
the thin scimitar moon of strife.

Bosons of gems he finds in jars
And beauty sails against the wind 
Capella that bright golden star
lies to the lissome black night pinned.

The brave explorer does not know
what is real or what is false
What will he do, where will he go
what if the allure fades and palls?

To travel a mystic distance
is all that his blood seeks to do 
To that inner call he listens 
like the traveller inside you.


Gunjiyas

It isn't just food
this melting sweetness 
encrusted in a crisp pastry
murmuring in the mouth.

For the filling, the red-brown charoli 
dots the desiccated coconut, slivered almonds, 
khoya, powdered sugar 
and raisins (as soft as your eyes).
Delicately encased in half moons of pastry,
sealed and fried to the colour of raw silk.

The crests in the painstakingly crimped dough
that forms its decorative edges
appear to me like the peaks of our tender bond.

No, 
these aren’t Gunjiyas that you've prepared today,
this in your fourth stage
when the doctors say 
you might find it hard to breathe.

So when you offer the sweets
to me and say
‘I made you your favourite treat’,
I realise that I’m going to taste 

tangible love.

Voices Within-2020 :: Setu, February 2020

Review of Two Full Moons by Vinita Agrawal

Reviewer: Nalini Priyadarshni
Book: Two Full Moons
Author: Vinita Agrawal
Genre: Poetry
Publisher: Bombaykala
ISBN: 978-8193947517
Pages: 106
Price: ₹ 350.00


Published by Bombaykala Books, Two Full Moons is the latest offering to poetry aficiados by award winning poet Vinita Agrawal. Author’s note tips this collection as “quotidian journey of life” wherein she seeks to explore and reclaim her identity through diamond facets of memory, history and current events braided with experiences both real and imagined.

Vinita Agrawal
Divided neatly into 9 sectioned, the book probes diverse concerns like birth, death, existence, family, soul and heart along with the world order and how it affects the mental health, bringing forth new perspectives on existential angst. These, she weaves into intimate and personal childhood memories until the inner tranquillity appears to be the last defence against the rampant anguish and anger in the outer world. In the words of Jayanta Mahapatra, the award-winning poet- “Vinita Agrawal’s poems seem to reach for something that lies just beyond their grasp.”

The title poem “Two Full Moons” explores the quotidian journey of moon between two full moons. Vinita begins, “I don’t trust sky/the accordion play of two full moons/the fragile twigs of fate/soaking quotidian journeys/ in the brine of time. Staggering lines, always a negotiation, a query, reaching towards reconciliation and acceptance “of a smoky destiny/from one full moon to the next”.

Nalini Priyadarshni
In the opening poem “Behind the Moon” she starts by questioning the pain and suffering that journey of life brings. What follows is exactly that draws me to Vinita’s work – a sense of poignancy and peace that permeates even the deepest wounds.  “bliss would be to drown in the ‘sea of poppies’ hidden behind you.” The true expression of strength comes in the last stanza which endears Vinita to me “I’m tired of standing and waiting/ let me share with you the echoes of my solitary existence”.

Often time meditative and searching, other times a salvo of images deliberately unleashed, poems in this collection have a breathless quality about them. “My mother is a peninsular presence/The dry ground in life’s squall’s/The raft in the deluge” (Total Facts Known About Vinita Pg. 45). I found myself drawn to the haunting poesy which often demands the readers to explore and mine a new dimension. Poems throughout the book are imagery driven that tumble across the pages as naturally and effortlessly as a spool of thread. Laced with confidence, her lines slide confidently and effortlessly bringing together poems like the teeth of a zipper. “Prison, that wet clingy thing/Around my throat, yielding to death.” (The Irony of Pacific Ocean Pg. 69)

The most striking thing about this book, other than the breath-taking imagery spanning across the entire book, is the poet’s willingness to take up painful and touchy topics right along with comforting collages. She conjures emotional landscapes suffused with subtle sensuality, fierce compassion and undulating feminism.  “For once what lies behind us/no longer raises its head,/nothing forgotten or remembered;/just laid to rest like another beautiful child/in the cemetery of injustices.”

Vinita let the poems follow their own course. No awkward, forced rhyming or clich├йd ideas and the fact that this book a poetic account of life at a deeper level is the added bonus. Contemplative and intimate, these poems will nudge the readers to slow down and read again. I know, ‘cause I went back and read them several times.

Voices Within: Vinita Agrawal

Vinita Agrawal is an award winning poet based in Mumbai. She has authored four books of poetry. She was senior editor with Womaninc for three years. She has read at Kala Ghoda, Cappuccino, Ethos and Lucknow Lit festivals. Her work has been widely published and internationally anthologised. She was co judge for AsianCha contest in 2015 and judge for the RLFPA (international prize) in 2015. She is on the board of advisors for the Tagore Literary prize.

My Best Face

Here’s the face I created just for you.
It wasn't made in my mother's womb
but built instead, by tides of life
the way banks of silt and sand are made
at the end of a lonely beach.

A soft-cushion face
that absorbs dismantling
yet stays in shape -
this face is a face saver.

Almost a rose without thorns
a sponge soaked in water
a squirrel face
that hoards tears for later.

Oval neat satin
swab for wounds
unnecessary to be admired in the mirror
for the mirror shows nothing of the soul.

Sometimes I stumble over
the alien floor of my cheeks
slip on all the marble
skid on cold granite.

But when I recall the number of dawns
it took to sculpt this mask
the sum of shoulder-straightening resolves
it took to put it in place
I hold my chin up.
My journeys have ended on my cheekbones.

Each Other's Company


Lead me to where I need to go
A land of peace, a piece of land
Earth's free schooling in trees and water
A sanctuary of flora and fauna.

No more the hamster running in a treadmill
resorting to trickery just to appear accomplished
frantically covering all bases, to be everywhere
and later, cowering in a corner...

asking why do I cast my pearls before a swine?

I'd rather openly be a novice
fallible...prone to making mistakes
I'd rather be myself no matter what
before my ruptured tears start.

In a world filled with men, how can that ever be?
Men don't allow a woman's inner self to surface
They draw penis lines of yeses and no s
and turn women into shrews.

I don't want to end up as a tumour tale
pelting angry stones at the trees I love.
When spring carves blossoms in my yard
I don't want to sit crocheting bones of pain.

Give me a life of inclusion, my love
my partner, my friend.
Let us succumb together to the allures of a peony
our brows lush with a lust for togetherness.

Let our sun be tart, our rain floral, it's pollen perfumed
Our voices one when put to the monsoons
Our eyes - let them be audacious silver boudoirs
Twin masquerades of wicked joy.

If I want anything then that is what I want

Fathers are like Autumn Trees


reflecting gentle autumn warmth
in every strand.
and daughters, their ferruginous leaves
little boats sailing on gentle waves.
If you stepped inside a father’s heart,
a warm autumn equinox would bathe your feet. 

When valencies of seasons turn leaves to gold
cause green bowers to blush a bright red
trees hug the aching earth
and sigh softly as they let go of their bounty.
The burly barks
pepper silence with stoic breaths.
They bear the brunt of seasons - Fathers.
******


Sufi

Tonight I’m as broken as the night.

Is that a dead bird in the bush?
Is it just a shadow?
Is it anything?

Bring all the tides
of all the oceans
to my doorstep
so that I may drown.

My hopes are full of life:
they don’t me die.

Take the pitcher and drain this blackness
jug by jug into the pond by the village
which is dry anyway
it won't mind my burdens.

Else,
someone else might face
the agony of these narrow labyrinths
that make one pass through knots of water
and blind the eyes.

Odyssey from Home To Homelessness
  
Heads, we’d stay in India, tails - Pakistan.
Tails.
So we picked up a fistful of soil
and left our country
carrying in our palms
the nonsense of emotions
when they should have clutched at food
and water for the journey of no return.

The August monsoon
grated into our wounds
and poured like blood
from ravaged skies
Our breaths were tattooed blue
with the ink of migration
memories stung like bees.

The ashen smoke of disownment
rising from Partition ‘s pathetic fires
screened our tears.
Our bite-sized footsteps
measured separation
with a dysfunctional inch tape;

too many fold marks
for the road to straighten ever again.
Home was an empty caravan without scents.
Radcliffe's pen turned out too strong
the borders too gullible
dying became easier than living.

Till today we water the fistful of soil
we’d brought along, every dawn
and look for the slightest sign of roots
we’d abandoned at the flip of a coin.
Voices Within Complete List of Poets :: Setu, January 2019

The Aesthetic Directives in Vinita Agrawal Poetry

- Anwer Ghani

Vinita Agrawal

Vinita Agrawal is a distinctive literary painter who draws feelings by words. The drawing of emotions by writing is one of the central stylistic features of the highly aesthetic, effective and unforgettable writing. Here, we will study the stylistic elements in Vinita poetry where the words used to draw the emotion and express the feelings and not just to deliver the meaning.

Poetry is a discovery of deep aesthetic lands in the fields of the consciousness, the subconsciousness, the memory, the soul, and the language. These hidden lands and their magic doors need a discovery - a leader who can guide the ship towards these lands and knock their doors. When the reader sees these doors, he will know how to open them because they are his doors, his soul and his knowingness where the magical lands reside and shine like white fields.

That is what is happened within the reading of the aesthetic writing and the author is the leader in this journey. By many textual tools, the poet can guide the reader to that world. The most important textual and stylistic tool to guide the reader and produce the aesthetic effect of the artistic writing is the expressive assignment of the semantic directives.

We use the term "semantic directives" to refer to any word or phrase adds any additional meaning to the essential core of a particular speech like adjectives, adverbs or any linguistic unit behaves like these units.

In the ordinary writing, the essential purpose from the sentences and their elements is conventional function, so all the adjectives and the adverbs and any additional descriptive words or phrases are involved in the field of conception  and understanding and the eyes of the writer and the reader are fixing on the conceptional value of the text without apparent consideration of the aesthetic elements. This manner of directing of writing and reading is different totally from the situation of the semantic directives in the aesthetic writing like poetry. In the aesthetic writing, the principal purpose of the semantic directives is aesthetic and there are features give the semantic directive its aesthetic function. These textual elements responsible for the aesthetic function can be explained clearly as stylistic features.

One of these features is the lyric expressiveness where the linguistic unit has been filled with a high emotional tone and a high emotions, so the words have been used to show the feelings and not meaning as a first priority and this is the central stylistic feature of aesthetic writing.

We can find these aesthetic directives abundantly in Vinita's poetry to the degree that they form the "expressive lexicon" which is an important non-conceptional expressive tool. The expressive lexicon brings the consciousness of the reader to a special linguistic and emotional field. By this process, the text will have a special linguistic harmony and a distinctive emotional expression and it is phenomenally responsible for production of the generalized emotional mood of the text. This emotional expression is an aesthetic element in its deep presence and it lies behind the level of meaning so we can say that it is located beyond the meaning. From this view we can evaluate the aesthetic value of every semantic directive in a system composed of two elements; the local and partial element where the directive guides the reader to a special aesthetic situation by the words, phrases and sentence, while the second element is general and global on the level of the paragraphs and whole the text.  Some directives express a local and partial aesthetic function while others will show only general and global effect but the highest one is the directive which expresses the two functions; the local and the general.

In Vinita’s poem; "Broken"(Inventives 4, May 2017) we can find the aesthetic directives that sum the local lyric phrasal and the general textual expressive functions. The obvious linguistic field in the poem is the" Breaking" as the title signifies. We will see how the semantic directives in this poem guide us to discover the hidden lands and their doors by  two tools; the first  is the uncovering of amazing local emotional blocks by the lyric expressiveness of the aesthetic directives and the second is the creation the generalized textual mood and its world by the expressive lexicon.
In "Broken" we can see: "broken/ broken home/ chopped tree / life ruthlessly axed / face of pain / Breath broken/plundered/cold meat / now dead / aged wind "

These words by themselves, without compound meaning of the sentence, produce a gloomy mood  and a cheerless face colors the poem. This is the transfiguration of the expressive lexicon, and all these emotional effects have been resulted from its power. The letter of the text reach us by that expressive tool before the system of meaning. This state where the letter of the text reaches the reader before the meaning is the core in the abstract writing.

This effect is the general aesthetic function of the directives which is different from the local aesthetic effect where the directives uncover the deep emotional block within the small linguistic unit as the sentence or phrase.

We see the major effect of these adjectives:
Broken in "broken home"
Chopped in "chopped tree trunk"

And we can see the major effect of this adverb:
Ruthlessly in "ruthlessly axed"

We see the powerful directing effect of these words and the important additional expressive function with strong emotions and emotive lyricism.

The additive expressive function of the linguistic elements in addition to the comprehension purpose is the central factor in the aesthetic value of these elements and the degree of the aesthetic value is proportionate with the width and the depth of  the emotional experience expressed by these tools.

While we find Vinita had used the short adjectives and adverbs to express the deep lyricism in some places in the poem, she has used longer linguistic elements to enrich the local expressive system and the general textual mood with the expressive letter and an additional emotional blocks , as we see in the following examples:

"This broken home is like a chopped tree trunk"
"Rime's leftovers straggle the trashcan like cold meat"
"So this is how things break in this world'
"This is how hope loses altitude"




The poem: Broken by Vinita Agrawal
(Inventives magazine, Issue 4, May 2017)

This broken home is like a chopped tree trunk
Showing rings of life ruthlessly axed

Leaving behind an upturned patellar face of pain
Breath broken in a cinch

Its lode of warmth is plundered
Rime's leftovers straggle the trashcan like cold meat

I sense the condors circling above, in my bones
As they scavenge for the rich, juicy morsels of a home, now dead

The aged wind is weary of reviving fires so often doused
It's shoulders too weak to carry ashes heavy with severing

So this is how things break in this world
This is how hope loses altitude

There must be someone to blame
There must also be someone who will lead me back to myself
*********
Anwer Ghani
Author Bio
Anwer Ghani is an Iraqi poet and writer. He was born in 1973 in Hilla. He is the author of "Narratopoet"; (I. Inventives Cloud 2017), "Antipoetic Poems"; (Creat Spacee 2017), "TRUMP"; a poetry collection, (Inner Child Press 2017) and "The Narratolyric Writing"; essays (Smashwords 2017). His name has appeared in  Otoliths, Adelaide, November Bees, Zarf, Peacock, Eunioa, Rabbit and many others. Anwer had 40 books in literature and religious sciences in Arabic.
Websites: https://anwerghaniwriting.blogspot.com/p/blog-page.htmlFacebook:  DrAnwerGhaniPostal code: Iraq- Babylon 51001- Box 396.