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Now I begin to know at last, These nights when I sit down to rhyme, The form and measure of that vast God we call Poetry, he who stoops And leaps me through his paper hoops A little higher every time.

Song of Contrariety Far away is close at hand,
Close joined is far away,
Love shall come at your command,
Yet will not stay. At summons of your dream-despair
She might not disobey,
But slid close down beside you there,
And complaisant lay. Yet now her flesh and blood consent
In the hours of day,
Joy and passion both are spent,
Twining clean away. Is the person empty air,
Is the spectre clay,
That love, lent substance by despair,
Wanes and leaves you lonely there
On the bridal day?

A book that traumatised a generation of CBSE students but it’s been one of the funniest books I’ve ever read. Packing was a part of our syllabus in school and I absolutely loved the humour of the writer. Jerome K Jerome ‘s book was also responsible for the tourism around Thames river that following year. I hope you will enjoy it. I directed a mini drama named - Uncle Podger hangs a picture which is also an excerpt from the book

Love has gone and left me

“I would like a simple life yet all night I am laying poems away in a long box.”

… “…But in twenty-five years she'll be silver, In fifty, gold. A living doll, everywhere you look. It can sew, it can cook, It can talk, talk, talk. It works, there is nothing wrong with it. You have a hole, it’s a poultice. You have an eye, it’s an image. My boy, it’s your last resort. Will you marry it, marry it, marry it.”

The Human Seasons by John Keats narrates four seasons of a man. A sonnet about spring, summer, Autumn and Winter of a man found its way in of the letters to his friend Benjamin Bailey. I often wonder how far Keats would have reached if only he had survived tuberculosis and the scathing snobbish criticism of Blackwood paper.

Featuring my cats

It took me a while Here i am again Doing what I love the most, Singing the songs of the other Reading poetry Written by another

Teacher, I failed this chapter of Life I was nice- he said I shared I cared. I was nicer everyday. Then Teacher looked at Old Nilly and said softly- Did you read the questions? Did you write right answers? To these question, little man got mad. “I said I was good.” Came a thunderous reply “You saw I did what I could. I was better than the Rogue- Who scored, more than what he deserved he must’ve cheated. He is a deadbeat, He is a beast. He is selfish, He knows no sacrifice, Cannot compromise. I- it should have been I, I should succeeded“ Cried old Nilly. The Teacher then asked firmly- Did you read the syllabus? Did you take the test? Did you learn from your mistakes? Though your attitude was all good and you meandered from your purpose. Cared too much to be polite? Popular and loved alas. But my child, In this assessment , The Rogue may have his way of life, Selfish indeed, brute and filled with vice. He knows the lines and rhetoric; Is very specific With punctuations and grammar of this chapter. Maybe he knows the games and plays by the rules and abiding by invisible laws, He seeks answers rather than pleasing others. For sometimes in this chapter of life, he may have won alas, but the world behind the door awaits cruel. The metaphor dissolves here Old Nilly feels betrayed by life and now thinks The Teacher is bias. Sonia 12th March

The Quiet World BY JEFFREY MCDANIEL In an effort to get people to look into each other’s eyes more, and also to appease the mutes, the government has decided to allot each person exactly one hundred and sixty-seven words, per day. When the phone rings, I put it to my ear without saying hello. In the restaurant I point at chicken noodle soup. I am adjusting well to the new way. Late at night, I call my long distance lover, proudly say I only used fifty-nine today. I saved the rest for you. When she doesn’t respond, I know she’s used up all her words, so I slowly whisper I love you thirty-two and a third times. After that, we just sit on the line and listen to each other breathe. BGM- Mia & Sebastian theme by Hauser

Many years ago people living in rural Nepal and some living in Nepali communities in India engaged in musical game where two singing groups engage in lyrical (couplet) interaction. We called them Juhari" (जुहारी) and "Dohori" (दोहोरी). Although "Dohori" is the more common term,it is also called "Juhari", particularly in the context of live performances or competitions. There is no specific date marking the origin of these folk songs, nor a single place it can trace back to. It has lived as an oral tradition. I have taken a bold decision to introduce it into my story. From what I have heard, my paternal grandparents used to sing Dohari and I still remember a few lines my late grandmother used to hummed. I hope my audience will embrace my creative choice and enjoy thìs narrative. Sound editing- Pankaj Shastri BGM Flute: Sujan Lama; BGM Sad Flute: Selim Reza

Kanchi Hai Kanchi- Part 1 A young woman crosses invisible border to seek freedom and hope in a new sanatorium . Clinging on to her is her toddler son and a past she cannot escape. The tale of Muglan retold, through Dohari and Jhawre songs. This time I took the liberty to introduce a historical figure into my story. Sound mixing courtesy - Pankaj Shastri BGM- Fate Believer PC- Das Studio, Darjeeling

Dreams by Langston Hughes

Trees by Joyce Kilmer