To Feel like a Poet...

To call yourself an artist or a poet has never been straightforward. Especially if there is no official piece of paper to validate the fact. For me, architecture has been the perfect foundation course for all things creative. Once an architect, all allied creative fields such as photography, graphic design, drawing, sketching, painting, creative writing, poetry, interior design, landscape design, fashion design and so on, seem to come with it. Poetry came to me in my early days of childhood, while dabbling with lines, shapes and then words. I carried it along on my creative professional journey.

While working in the field of landscape for so many years, side by side, I worked on creating my first poetry book and dared to have it published! Of course, putting your innerness out there for people to comment on is a very scary exercise. But I did that. Probably motherhood gave me that courage. But even after ten years since my first book came out, I haven't felt comfortable referring to myself as a poet.

Through COVID, I worked on my second book of poetry. This time, adding illustrations as well, that weave through the poems, telling a story. My style has definitely evolved since my first book. Post COVID, after losing my beloved mother in 2021, my mind was meandering anchorless, trying to find that one thing to keep me going. I mustered the courage to submit my manuscript to a bigger publication house. To my surprise, it was selected! I've been working towards this venture since last year, with the landscape architect in me, supporting me alongside.

But now the time has come for the landscape architect to take a step backwards and let the poet take on the center stage. I met my publishers in person last week. After months of corrections, cover trials, editing, proofreading, I am relieved that we have received the print permit for my book from the Media Council! That's a big milestone! It's still not sinking in! All these processes have taken so long that I keep getting stung by the scorpion of self doubt, loitering on this desert of difference. I think the final stretch is definitely the hardest!

I feel I'm in my last trimester, eagerly waiting for my poetic baby to come out, holding that long kept secret, as this time the bump isn't showing ;) It’s been more like a bubble in my head, I've been afraid, might pop!

Literally, I've arranged all my eggs in one basket, laid down the nets in wild waters as seasons go by, waiting for the big fish to finally enter.

Yes, it's difficult to swim against the current. Even harder is to wait, leaving everything that was so important before, on the back seat, facing your demons each morning.

Again, why? Why do people like us put ourselves in such situations? Wouldn't it be easier, continuing to walk, looking down, on the same path without questioning anything… to just be a part of the same routine and not dare to wander alone on the opposite side!

But it's me, who has started all this, and I must complete it in the best possible way. My mother always wanted to see my published book and to address me as “a Poet” ! I am kicking my heels, twiddling my thumbs, then going back to being the calm yogini , meditating and chanting “Aum….” to slay this restlessness and to allow myself to feel more like a poet! I am waiting in the wings for my turn to unleash the precious creation and then just dance with joy like no one's watching!

I want to invite you all, dear friends and family, to be a part of my journey through these labour pains…to patiently wait with me as I look forward to holding my first sample print, hopefully very soon. Put in a good word for me…

I will reveal the name of my book and its cover when I can touch it, feel it and smell it! Much like my last two times of delivering my boys. I can only say, this time, it might be a girl :) I can assure you all, there's something for everyone in the book. It's for us, women, to discover our inner voice and for men in our lives, to understand us better.

Meanwhile, I reach out to my mum to hold my hand as I traipse these last few strides…my grip on her fingers getting tighter with each tread, as on the stairs to my kindergarten, just like the childhood days…

#comingsoon #secondpoetrybook  #amairathelittlewoman #feellikeapoet #thissummer