Introduction to the Poet:

Sanjana Varma is currently perusing her Post Graduation in English. She is a native of Kerala, India. She is 22 years old and loves reading and writing. She hopes to publish her works soon.

The Hybrids

We are the nation
Its muscles and sinews
Stitched to the bones
Integral like the breath!

We think in a language so foreign
Speakers of amalgamated tongues
Our hearts beat same as yours.

Lonely among our own people
Lonely  still in foreign lands
Wanderers with a lust for a home
That embrace our eccentricities.

Scorn us not you purists!
We aren’t enslaved by
What  is not ours.

We are the thread of the world
We  let go of the
Rusted notions
Happy to bounce
On the trampoline
Of oneness.

As citizens of the world
We will live
Not cooped in chicken cages
Of withering foundations.

We are the hybrids
We are the nation.

Under The Shadow of the Crescent Moon

A crumb of moon
Hangs on the zenith
It’s faint light
Spreading like the
Ends of cloth
Rising with the wind
The waves try to catch
Unsuccessful they fall
Only to rise again.

She sulks to the
Tales told by the river
Her adventures traversing
Through nooks and crannies .

The river basks in glory
As the shadow of Luna
Fits perfectly to her waters,
She holds her breath
Not to disturb
Her Majesty’s peaceful recline.

Somewhere in the distance
Pulled by strings
Of unknown origin,
A girl emerges
Clutching her robes
Closer to herself.

She stares
As if in trance
At the White stone
Adorned by the night.

Wind caresses her face
Bringing a murmur
In alien tongue,
She lisps back
A song lullaby like
Drifts to her ears.

She fights the sentry of sleep
Waging wars with
Her eye lids
Until her eyes drooped
She looked longingly
At the sleeping child
Wishing to be with
That sweet thing
To hold her in
Her arms as
Any mother would .

She hung on
Till the morning sun
With his fiery glare
Banished her back
To a realm
Of loneliness.