Rajashree Anand's Blog

(function(d, s, id) { var js, fjs = d.getElementsByTagName(s)[0]; if (d.getElementById(id)) return; js = d.createElement(s); js.id = id; js.src = "//connect.facebook.net/en_US/all.js#xfb... fjs.parentNode.insertBefore(js, fjs); }(document, 'script', 'facebook-jssdk'));


Post by Rajashree Anand.

(Published By : Online Magazine - Writers Asylum )

Like epitomes of paradoxes,
the Big Brother to the ‘other’,
dictates and usurps
the universal truth:
the last minute Mr Benefactor
of Swiss accounts. The nuke,
that controls in the name of peace -
making, keeping or breaking?
Apollonian ego and democratic dogmas
following convoluted cults as rights
of expression, defiance or idiosyncrasy.

Hi all,


I
would like to announce the release of The Dance of the Peacock: AnAnthology of English Poetry from India edited by Dr. Vivekanand Jha published
by Hidden Brook Press (Canada) , which contains a selection of my
poetry.

 

Some of the other poets featured in this anthology are Keki N Daruwala,
Dr. Karan Singh, Anita Nair, Jayanta Mahapatra and many more award winning
poets from

The cauldron seers underneath the melting pot fuses, fuels appetites.The culinary Malay twins are born,sprucing their sodden sky.Massive and everlasting they stand: piercing bluntly into sticky rice-cloudsThey are chopsticks, not spoons!


For the 'Sons of the Land'
who bask in its boisterous segments
as artfully aligned to their heavens, they fuel modest pride.
They quench imported palettes

It is unity.
A sensual outburst;
fuming essences out of rain-forests,
harvesting in hungry plates,
engulfing courses drowned in taste.
Scrunched to be crunched
in knotted pandan potlis
flavourfully divine,
seams revolving in variations
blend one, with the one-eyed ova moon –
the wild aromatic nasi
paled hot by saucy spices,
evidences of the sea at its periphery.
Ikans swimming into a spoonful

A transient visitor into her sensorial world,
“Now walk,” she said.
My legs played possum to her vocal stimuli:
spoilt for visual signals, spatial comfort.
“Walk, trust me!” she said again.
The eyeballs held captive
 by my sweaty palms,
now choked in want of feeble light.
I couldn’t give up, not so soon.
“Now come on, di!” she said
and held me tight.
And then I felt.
The stagnant wind in the

The loaded jet plane missed its runway

circled past the busy base.

“…and zoom!” she said 

swallowing a silent prayer.

He was still munching- ever so slowly,

splattering her hope in
delightful role play.

“ I’m parking my Lamborghini, mum!”



How long? As long as I give up?

She complained with grunts and rage

dislodged his four-wheeled pride,

found his smeared target again

and acquired

(RIP: Mrs. Ranganayaki Jagannathan)
Anand's Paternal Grandma



20th December, 2011










In the gleam of your kohl bespectacled eyes

was a glint of mischief,

a joyful smirk to grandpa’s banter.





In your words, the sweetness

of the kin you fed dearly,

with plentiful sweets and savories.






In your actions, the purity

of every heartfelt emotion

and stubborn love radiated.

I hid in a stocking that Christmas Eve party,

right by the mistletoe,

eyed kids lapping stripey candy pops

watched sparkling wine flow.



I made snowflakes from wasted wrapping sheets

cleaned sauce off her dirty stair.

little morsels of fruit and wine,

I wiped them fair and square.



While I tidied her delicious cutlery,

I watched her guests and Lucy prance,

and joined them in their

Feed me, where islets of fecund earth,

rise from the sea like green straw mushrooms

grilled by the orange sun,

and seasoned by wild waves, saline.




Quench me, with pure mineral water,

the glistening mirror of the eternal thirst

to be one with my wandering soul,

entangled in flighty memories.




Purify me, bathe away guilty imprints

remnants of a futile past ,

to dissolve in the