The practice may have started a little more than six years back but poetry has been a confidante  since childhood, as a gauche teenager and, of course, now. A portal of which was introduced at a very early age; since then I have chosen to be with Sukumar Ray’s Abol Tabol (that I read in Bengali).  Growing up Bengali, an ensemble influence of Tagore, Nazrul Islam, Keats and Dickinson is inevitable. While the to-be-read list grows every week, I read for two hours every day and not necessarily poetry. I am at my desk by six in the morning with tea, staring at the blank page and a gentle pressure of that pulsating cursor. But that is when the writing comes together to come undone later. Writing poetry really happens across the day, when one is mindful of the ecology of images, internal and external, a palette of observations, staying granular and playful. 

Being a student of science, one has remained curious and often tampered with the balance of what has been taken for granted which I notice finding way into my writing, quite subconsciously now.

With my engagement with the practice of cinema, the lens of poetry at times inclines towards a world where I am mindful of my reader as a collaborator. Being a multidisciplinary practice, it makes one receptive though not always accommodating to experiment with image as our protagonist, drawing as much from my reader as an invocation.