On why people write poetry

By Anupama Bhargava

When the soil you had twined your roots in, starts to become your grave, and

Life begins to dislocate itself in between battleships with the unusual rush inside the beating sinews, and the voices from under the ceiling, raising hell together inside your head,

And the only thing that is stagnant is the intersection of the worthless days during the back counting of the orphaned sixty seconds (in worry) every minute,

And you make up your words cut into spheres, pyramids, and squares, though imprinted on the style sheets, but only to make people understand your state of mind when half the night is over,

When guiltless nudity comes in your words - you write poetry!

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posted 17 June 2003