The Wolf in the Mountains

In the last post, I said that I would be talking a bit about my works. This is my first published book of poetry, and therefore very close to my heart. I created every bit of it, right from the picture of the wolf on the cover, to the poems inside. Therefore, I have the right to say that this book is my baby - my eldest child.

The questions you may probably be wanting to ask are - what is a haiku, and why write haiku?

Haiku are 17-syllable poems, written in three lines, with a syllable count of 5-7-5. Of course, the English Haiku is very different from its Japanese cousin, due to the cultural and linguistic differences between the languages. All we've done is retain the structure of the Haiku, and altered the content to create something that has elements of both what is modern and traditional.

Why write Haiku? The Haiku is a complex form, and not very easy to master - since one has to get the syllable count right to begin with, and after that comes the expression of the idea, or creation of a word-picture. It is much easier to do this in a poem that has less restriction on size and form, which gives more space to develop an idea. This challenge itself is what makes a Haiku interesting to write. One cannot waste words. Ideas and images have to be condensed to form something that is whole. Once you get the hang writing Haiku, the simplicity, the beauty of the form hooks you in, and other forms of poetry seem superfluous, with their extraneous words - compared with the compactness of the Haiku.

If my words don't convince you of the beauty of the Haiku, perhaps my poetry will. Here's where you can find copies of my book - The Wolf in the Mountains.

1. Kindle - (India) : https://www.amazon.in/dp/B07QQ53C49
    Kindle (USA) - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07QQ53C49
    Kindle (UK) - https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07QQ53C49

2. Paperback (USA) - https://www.amazon.com/dp/1095113003
    Paperback (UK) - https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/1095113003

(Kindly note, Paperbacks are not available in Amazon.in. They will have to be sourced from Amazon.com or Amazon.co.uk).

You can also check out my website - https://dragondreams-official-92.webself.net/home

Or email me on sangnat.author@gmail.com

Looking forward to hearing from you!

Cheers :D

It's been a long time since I've updated this blog. In more ways than one, I've neglected my writing. At this point in life, however, I think it's time to come go back to that beautiful habit - write when happy, write when sad. This is not a revisitation of the past, but an envisaging of the possibilities of the future.

In the following blogs, I have no idea what I will be talking about. I do not promise anything. This will be a free space of exploration, where various things will be discussed. I would like to talk about things close to my heart - about books and poetry, about relationships, about the scary unknown that lies ahead, and of course - about the Craft (could be interpreted as either witchcraft, or writing). You would not be wrong either way.

I think, in the next couple of posts, I would like to begin by telling you about my poetry collections, my experience with the haiku, and of course, how I started writing. After that, I'd like to have your inputs on what you'd like me to talk about.

You can email me on sangnat.author@gmail.com, where I'd love to hear your comments. I will keep you updated about my writing journey, and upcoming projects.

So, stay tuned for the next update :D

The Orange Plate

Plates are not a rare phenomenon in any hostel room. They are found on tabletops, under food packets and occasionally used as flying saucers, drums or frisbees. They are usually taken to the dining hall and back by their owners, and the saddest times are when they get into an accident and die, splintering into a thousand shards on the floor.

The orange plate was made of plastic, so it had an easier time than most other plates. It didn't break when it fell to the floor. It was easily cleaned with soap and didn't stain. It had a wide radius, so it never spilt food. It did a good job for most of its life. The owner, however, grew careless as the plate was unbreakable, and placed a hot kettle on the plate. That was when its weakness was revealed. It couldn't withstand heat and melted right in the middle. There wasn't a hole, just a round scar. The owner, being a college student living in a hostel, thought that it was unnecessary to buy a new one, and continued using the plate.

From then on, the plate was handled much more carefully and served out the remainder of its time in peace, till it was time for the owner to leave the hostel. After that, no one really found out what happened to the orange plate.

Please do take a look at this, like, support and if you'd like to, try your hand at the challenge too!

https://theprose.com/post/161291/the-last-train-to-elda

Really excited for the results, and I hope to be read by Simon and Schuster... *fingers crossed!*

Exam blues

There's nothing like a test or exam to get the poetry vibes flowing. I wonder why that is. We students would do anything to put off the inevitable - like organizing midnight junk food parties in hostel rooms, rediscovering old friends we haven't talked to for years or simply, sitting down to write a novel whose plot has been floating around in your head for want of initiative to put pen to paper. An exam comes along, and boom! A switch turns on in your head that says 'This sounds like a crazy idea. Let's do it!' I have an exam tomorrow afternoon, and here I am, learning to knit a scarf, and updating my almost-brand new blog, all at the same time. I have no clue why I didn't do either of these things before tonight, but that's just how it is.

Tea Time

Tea time is a ritual
A time when friends gather
And ramble along paths amidst the woods
Enjoying the breeze.
Perhaps the setting sun
Would have a look in
And dye the sky
In luxuriant hues
As we sit sipping tea
With a sweet bun on the side
Conversation's the main course
Served at these short walks
To the tea shop
Before long,
It's time to hurry back
And get inside
Before the bell rings,
Signaling the much detested curfew hour.
I look forward to tea time everyday
Sweet moments of freedom
And companionship
Steady as the tide
That ebbs and flows
On the seashore
 

The Love Equation

    
If I plotted Love on a graph sheet
What would it look like?
(The expression of love as a mathematical expression -
Does it
Sound sensible?
Or incongruous
Like the sight of you and me
Holding hands
Would be?)
Would it go
Up      Up      Up      Up
   Down  Down  Down
Like the beat of my heart
Trying to match the rhythm of yours
Or
Would it be an arc
A perfect curve
Eternally lifted up
In a sassy smirk?
No.
I rather think
It'd be a jagged scar
Running right across
Ripping the surface in two
Breathing ragged
Heaving sobs
Silent
A soul as lonely
As the axes
Which meet but once
At the origin,
And then
Nevermore.