Poems by Anjali Purohit 

Atrophy 
​
then
your words went astray
we still spoke
my voice
your eyes
 
it’s almost dawn
as you would
at the window
I’ve laid out grain
and fresh water
for them to bathe in
 
the world has shrunk
I wait
sparrows will come
 
my placenta lies buried
beneath your bed
I return
to pay its debt
 
 
We No Longer Hear the Blue Whale Sing 

A glacier recedes and
two hundred elephants
die in the Kenyan drought
 
the butterfly of the jasmine breath
shares her nectar with the bee 
 
what have we done that
the blue whale decreases 
the decibel of her song
year on year until it no longer registers
on our instruments
 
a jaundiced moon sheds a pale light
on dusty leaves of thirsty trees
and barren fields cry silently
 
will we ask
the blind eyed stare
of the dead fawn to look
the hunter in the eye
 
will the baby you carry
still hear your heartbeat
 
 

 

Anjali Purohit is a painter, writer, poet, translator and curator. She is the author of two books, Ragi Ragini: Chronicles from Aji’s Kitchen (Yoda Press, 2012) and Go Talk to the River: The Ovis of Bahinabai Choudhari (Yoda Press, 2019). She is the founder and curator of the Cappuccino Adda (formerly the Cappuccino Readings), an initiative working to foster a literary café culture in Mumbai and to contribute towards building a vibrant writers’ community. 
 
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