"Read a Little Poetry"
The internet is a strange place, is it not? My generation has been defined by its communal matrix, its dsytopic release. We live in the interstices, like ants without destinies, quietly subsisting on morsels hidden between linings, under html leaves thrust aside by forests of discontent. I remember the first time I discovered others like me, floating aimlessly on the ether of empty code, marinating their surprise with the words of others, sending out incandescent Morse SOSs - “I am here”.
Read a Little Poetry came into my life when the early wonder of Shakespeare and the classics had started wearing off, when Eliot and Rilke seemed more interesting, and I had just started making friends with Kolatkar. Perhaps I was drawn to the quiet way in which this anonymous curator created a space for poems in the unending mulch all around. Their words floated up to me with the nervous energy of dried leaves trying to recall their time in the sun. This was a time before social media became deity, when we sought out others like us in blogs and newsletters, and the world was just beginning to become small.
About the blog: Every poem is encircled with lyrical, intimate commentary, caught in the pause, like a torn handkerchief in the claw of a leafless tree, surviving for no one but itself, amused at the gale which threatens to erase it. Some places acquire meaning, not aesthetic or moral value, simple because they exist. They become a form, in the same way that broken-mismatched rocks make up monuments in Delhi.
Read a Little Poetry has lived through several avatars, but we have always had the benevolence of a few words (not of advice, but of companionship) buffeting wondrous poems, unsung teachers that have taught us to live, from afar. The latest post came to my inbox a couple of days ago. I wanted to share it with you (along with the curated poem), because it felt like a message from a friend, somebody who listens.
I related especially to this line - “Mostly because you've been with me for years and years and have seen me grow as a person.”.
Dear friend,
At the beginning of the last year, I thought I was beginning a new life. You see, I grew up in a physically abusive and emotionally manipulative household for years, and have endured so much violence growing up. I finally managed to leave and live on my own, but as I was settling in, the pandemic started, so I was really isolated. I experienced severe PTSD—every time my neighbours slam a door, I get into an anxiety attack and I forget that I'm safe now. But I dealt with it as much as I can, and for the most part was okay.
Then I lost my job— I asked for some time to grieve because someone close to me died and that didn't go well in my workplace. Long story short, by July, my life went on a downward spiral. I was really struggling a lot with paying for rent, food, and basic necessities. But I endured all that and made it to this year.
This year, my family of origin had some trouble and I had no choice but to help them out. I felt like I had to, even after everything they did to me. I felt sick to my stomach, but I couldn't bring myself to let them suffer alone.
This decision ended up with me getting sucked back into the dysfunction that I struggled for thirty-five years to leave. For the whole of 2021, most of my waking hours were spent helping manage the family business. I worked long hours, and I didn't get paid a single cent. And since they have all my time, I was not able to find a job and earn income for myself, and I found myself in the same place as I was in 2020: worrying about rent, enduring hunger, etc. I think my mental health was worse this year than last year even.Why am I telling you all this? Mostly because the holidays are extremely difficult for me to get through, and I kept thinking, will I ever be okay again? Mostly because you've been with me for years and years and have seen me grow as a person. Mostly because I want to explain, in a way, why I've been silent on Read A Little Poetry, and why work on the website is slow-going.
Mostly because I was thinking, if you are going through something similar or worse, I want you to know that I am here for you. That you are not alone, and I am holding you in my heart, and damn, we are going to get through this.
(Italics Mine)
I urge you to scour the archives of Read a Little Poetry, if you haven’t already, and, if you feel like it, extend a hand.
If the poems and the commentary resonate with you, do consider ‘buying me a coffee’.
(Matlab, if you can’t, that’s also fine, obviously. This is a free newsletter)
Note: Those, not in India, who’d like to support the work I do at Poetly, do write to me - poetly@pm.me. (Paypal has left the building)
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