not the heat-maddened ikats, not the secular pastels.
There’s no season you can call your own.
Like others
you wait
in queues
for the drought to end
although you know everything
there is to know
about the guile and the gristle
of the heart –
its handloom desires,
its spandex fantasies,
its polycot, its wear-and-tear
polytheism.
And you know
that when it happens again,
the whoosh
of textile, versatile,
block-printed by sun,
Contents List
9 Textile
11 How Some Hindus Find Their Personal Gods
13 The Way You Arrive
14 My Friends
16 Eight Poems for Shakuntala
26 Printer’s Copy
27 I Speak for Those with Orange Lunch Boxes
28 The City and I
30 Or Take Mrs Salim Sheikh
32 Benaras
35 The Builder’s Lobby
36 And here’s middle age again
37 Bones
39 I Knew a Cat
40 Transplant
41 Jogger’s Park
42 You and I that Day in Florence
44 Where the Script Ends
46 The Dark Night of Kitchen Sinks
48 Hierarchies of Crisis
51 Quick-fix Memos for Difficult Days
54 Living with Earthquakes
56 Bhakti (with some adulteration)
57 Shoe Zen
58 Six about Love Stories
65 Border
66 When God is a Traveller
68 Poems Matter
Related Reviews
’A marvellous collection, wonderfully varied and rich… A remarkable book from a remarkable poet.’ – John Burnside [on Where I Live: New & Selected Poems]
’This is writing that creeps up on the reader quietly, sometimes with just the whisper of a sari, or the taste of a lullaby, and yet spins suddenly on the edge of stark recognition.’ – Imtiaz Dharker
'...one of the finest poets writing in India today… It is not dulcet music you hear in Where I Live. It's the swish of swordplay, each poem skewered at sabre-point and then placed on an electric grille to sizzle like a rasher on a barbecue.' - Keki Daruwalla, The Hindu
'...a strong personality and an individual voice; her poems feel as if they are meant to be read aloud as well as on the page.... Subramaniam is becoming a major poet.' - Bruce King, Journal of Postcolonial Literature