Nupur Chowdhury's Blog, page 4
August 31, 2018
Poetry: A Tendency to Wear Hearts on Sleeves
(Image Source)I log into the network of my self-esteem,To see the hearts and the wows and the laughs flooding in.A simple 'like' wouldn’t cut it anymore‘Likes’ were so 2010, even 2010 was bored.
‘Cause that’s the zeitgeist of the age, you see,A tendency to wear hearts on sleeves.Loves and kisses are a dime a dozen,With a million friends and followers double.
National debates and social justice petitions,Real crises, distorted renditions.High definition photos of disaster zonesFlash up aga...
A Tendency to Wear Hearts on Sleeves
(Image Source)I log into the network of my self-esteem,To see the hearts and the wows and the laughs flooding in.A simple 'like' wouldn’t cut it anymore‘Likes’ were so 2010, even 2010 was bored.
‘Cause that’s the zeitgeist of the age, you see,A tendency to wear hearts on sleeves.Loves and kisses are a dime a dozen,With a million friends and followers double.
National debates and social justice petitions,Real crises, distorted renditions.High definition photos of disaster zonesFlash up aga...
August 30, 2018
Poetry: You Cannot Buy Groceries with Potential
(Image Source)They’ll tell you that you have ‘potential’,That with the proper degrees and the right resumeYou could get it all, make every dream real,Go up on the stage of life and have your say.
But they’ll only ever whisper in parenthesis,That this fairy tale had its genesisIn the blackened ashtrays of airless office roomsBroken bodies lost in the factory fumes.
They’ll say you can be anything you want,Just so long as your plans don’t interruptThe 9-hour shift and 3-hour commutePlus any hous...
You Cannot Buy Groceries with Potential
(Image Source)They’ll tell you that you have ‘potential’,That with the proper degrees and the right resumeYou could get it all, make every dream real,Go up on the stage of life and have your say.
But they’ll only ever whisper in parenthesis,That this fairy tale had its genesisIn the blackened ashtrays of airless office roomsBroken bodies lost in the factory fumes.
They’ll say you can be anything you want,Just so long as your plans don’t interruptThe 9-hour shift and 3-hour commutePlus any hous...
August 28, 2018
Poetry: Aro/Ace - On the Slightly Awkward Subject of My UnSexuality
Closet? What closet? I'm coming out of an antique mahogany almirah decorated with rainbow butterflies.
Aro/Ace –Sounds like the kinda thing you’d say on Tumblr.Or would have, when you were fifteen,If you were into that sort of thing.
I wasn’t, personally. I was too busy–Trying to make friends (with dubious success)Get passing grades (a huge fucking mess)And simply exist (without knowing it) as an aro/ace.
What’s that? I couldn’t have told you.Not then, when it was all confusing and new.I b...
Aro/Ace –Sounds like the kinda thing you’d say on Tumblr.Or would have, when you were fifteen,If you were into that sort of thing.I wasn’t, personally. I was too busy–Trying to make friends (with dubious success)Get passing grades (a huge fucking mess)And simply exist (without knowing it) as an aro/ace.
What’s that? I couldn’t have told you.Not then, when it was all confusing and new.I b...
Aro/Ace: On the Slightly Awkward Subject of My UnSexuality
Closet? What closet? I'm coming out of an antique mahogany almirah decorated with rainbow butterflies.
Aro/Ace –Sounds like the kinda thing you’d say on Tumblr.Or would have, when you were fifteen,If you were into that sort of thing.
I wasn’t, personally. I was too busy–Trying to make friends (with dubious success)Get passing grades (a huge fucking mess)And simply exist (without knowing it) as an aro/ace.
What’s that? I couldn’t have told you.Not then, when it was all confusing and new.I b...
Aro/Ace –Sounds like the kinda thing you’d say on Tumblr.Or would have, when you were fifteen,If you were into that sort of thing.I wasn’t, personally. I was too busy–Trying to make friends (with dubious success)Get passing grades (a huge fucking mess)And simply exist (without knowing it) as an aro/ace.
What’s that? I couldn’t have told you.Not then, when it was all confusing and new.I b...
August 27, 2018
The Poetry Post #5
Crispy Fried Chicken
A thunderstorm beating against my ribs,The sun glares into my eyes and screams –Wordless terror; as claws, a monster’s dibsSnatch her from the coop. ‘Take me!’ I weep.‘Tsk tsk – too old. It’s a party!I’ll need tender meat.’
Stench of sweat, rotting fleshOr minds, festering in metallic confines,Crumbling feathers, dying babesSnatched by demon hands from damnation’s cage.Wings torn, breast ripped – she was mine!‘Crispy wings, stuffed breast’, they wink and smile.
Crimson hands...
A thunderstorm beating against my ribs,The sun glares into my eyes and screams –Wordless terror; as claws, a monster’s dibsSnatch her from the coop. ‘Take me!’ I weep.‘Tsk tsk – too old. It’s a party!I’ll need tender meat.’Stench of sweat, rotting fleshOr minds, festering in metallic confines,Crumbling feathers, dying babesSnatched by demon hands from damnation’s cage.Wings torn, breast ripped – she was mine!‘Crispy wings, stuffed breast’, they wink and smile.
Crimson hands...
August 26, 2018
The Misguided Romanticization of Everyday Misfortunes
Collided with you on my way to work,No, it wasn’t a sign, wasn’t destiny’s quirk.A swollen temple and a bruised noseDo not herald a date, a wedding, or even a rose.
Dropped my books on my way to class,Our fingers brushed when you knelt on the grassMusic blasting from the dorm on the second floorI nodded my thanks and walked through the door.
I know they say it’s divine intervention,But it’s more just my lack of hand-eye coordination.I know you believe we were meant to beBut I need spectacles mo...
A Letter to My Best Friend
Well, there isn't much to say about this one. It's right what it says on the tin. An elaborate proposition for potential cohabitation to my best friend. Featuring five years worth of inside jokes that you may or may not get.
It isn’t that I never liedNever spouted facts and figures unverifiedTo impress you, proselytize youOpinions too many, confessions too few.
It isn’t that you never criedHurled accusations, indictments unjustifiedTo convert me, evangelize mePassions so many, compromise...
It isn’t that I never liedNever spouted facts and figures unverifiedTo impress you, proselytize youOpinions too many, confessions too few.
It isn’t that you never criedHurled accusations, indictments unjustifiedTo convert me, evangelize mePassions so many, compromise...
An Ode to Durga
So, I had to write a poem for the annual Dussehra (Durga Puja) magazine published at my residential complex every year. Well, I sat down at my laptop for this year's installment, and this is what came out. Enjoy!!
They told us that you’re handsome, that you’re strongThey told us you felled demons, righted ancient wrongsWe were led to believe, we didn’t need a fallen EveWhen we had you – rising, flying, fighting, and free.
You’re feminism in a sareeRebellion ornamented with filigreeNot the deity...
They told us that you’re handsome, that you’re strongThey told us you felled demons, righted ancient wrongsWe were led to believe, we didn’t need a fallen EveWhen we had you – rising, flying, fighting, and free.
You’re feminism in a sareeRebellion ornamented with filigreeNot the deity...
