Bruised, but not Broken (poems) -Challapalli Swarooparani 5. Explosion Though every cell craves for sanctity of a filled pot incessant blasts only embrace me. My only desire to live like a pure, new born person innocently like a faint green sprout ― the concrete diplomacy that piled up around freezes it by the day. To […]
Continue ReadingBruised, but not Broken (poems) -Challapalli Swarooparani 4. Prohibited Dream My memory does not carry Colourful dreams that converse with my eyelids. In my dream, someone chases me, Always, as I keep running Insecure And towards an unknown destiny. In fact, life too is like a dream! I bundle up my identity and toss it […]
Continue ReadingBruised, but not Broken (poems) -Challapalli Swarooparani 3. Water Just as water knows the ground’s incline, It knows the generations-old strife Between village and wada Like dampness on the well’s edge that never dries, It knows that untouchability never disappears. Water knows everything. It knows race The difference between the woman from Samaria and Jesus, […]
Continue ReadingBruised, but not Broken (poems) -Challapalli Swarooparani 2. An Ethnic Dream The criss-crossed entangled forest seemsTo have gathered its hair neatly into a knot.Swallowed by a corporate whaleThat spits them out in the centre of Shilparamam*Small huts in deep sleep amidst green treesAppear doll houses with lime patternsAlluring. Nose studs, beaded necklaces, mirror blouses ofThe […]
Continue ReadingBruised, but not Broken (poems) -Challapalli Swarooparani 1.Rain Rain means Memories – Flying termites That shed their wings from The wet anthills of the mind Rain means A paper boat that I fasten To plunge into the pond of infancy When I look at this rain I remember my damp thatched house That woke us […]
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