Sravani is always the wondering Muse


POETRY EDITOR ANANYA GUHA’S NOTE: Sravani is a 22 year old poet from Andhra Pradesh. Her poetry reflects her day to day emotions and she is always the wondering Muse.     

About the poet:  Sravani Singampalli is a 22 year old poet from Andhra Pradesh, India. She is presently pursuing Doctor of Pharmacy at JNTU KAKINADA university in Andhra Pradesh. She writes all forms of poetry. Her works have been shortlisted and published by wordweavers, the poet community, Delhi poetry slam and forthcoming in many national and international anthologies.          


I wish I were the rain

The rain of felicity

The rain of poems

Or perhaps the rain of equanimity

In their gloomy lives.


I wish I were blind

As blind as pure love

Smelling the fragrance of optimism

And feeling the tranquillity in cool breeze.


I wish I were the life

The life in the pure water

The life in the eternal sunshine

Or perhaps the life

In those innocent smiles.


I wish I were the song

The song of a nightingale

The song of a passionate lover

Or perhaps the song of

A dewy-eyed orphan child.


I wish I were his pain

The pain which is bittersweet

The pain buried deep inside

The pain conceived into his poem

The pain which has stolen all my desires!


 My dear child

 (A monody)

You had the most amazing eyes

Twinkling with innocence and curiosity

You became my world and my life.

Listening to you reciting rhymes

Was my only treat

Your little hands always

Trying to help me

And wiping off my tears

When I used to cry seemed very sweet!

There were times you made me angry

But glaring at you was never my part

As you were my only child!

The day your father left us

I almost died but prayed to god

To keep me alive until I behold you

As the most beautiful bride!

I never thought that

I would lose you forever!

I am the culprit, it was all my mistake!

Perhaps I should have prayed for you instead!

You were my breath, my only child

Your smile was the

Reason of my life

Now that you’re not with me

‘Grief’ has become my child!



Rooh Afza

I start composing my poem

I say I am petrichor

I am the fresh perfume

Issued from cardamom thoughts

When I smell the sweet earthy scent

Of the immature rain.

This is so mesmerising!

As I stare at the rain

I wait for my cup of hot coffee

And a plate of pakoras.

Can I resist all these?

The truth is it all happens naturally.


My mother says salads

Are very good for health

She prepares the exotic recipe

By adding cucumber, chopped

Ginger, garlic, tomatoes,

Piercing green parsley, cabbage

And dresses it with olive oil.

I remove the ginger and garlic

And shout at her

Who adds this pungent stuff!

Soon I get to listen those sage advices

From my grandparents that

Life is an exotic salad recipe

Each and every ingredient is important

If you want to enjoy its taste!


When I wear those

Branded pantaloons cold shoulder tops

And my favourite jeans

They say I look very attractive

But when I wore

A south Indian pattu saree

They praised me by saying

You look like a goddess!

I was surprised!

Perhaps this is the glory

Of our timeless Indian culture.


I keep on sneezing

When I have cold

I don’t feel like going out

And this is when I am forced

To drink a glass of warm milk

Mixed with turmeric and black pepper.

When I notice clumps of hair falling out

I start buying those

Expensive commercial shampoos

Nothing works and finally

I switch back to authentic

Ayurvedic ingredients like

Neem, tulsi, hibiscus and fenugreek

To stop my hair fall!


Pop! Pop! Pop!

I enjoy popping those bubble wraps

When I am bored

I remember the thrill of bunking lectures

Secretly eating chocolates and my granny’s

Delicious homemade lime pickle

Still the one which is dearest to my heart is

My timeless passion for writing poems

And reciting them to my grandparents.

With time many things may change

But some things remain unchanged!



*Afza-nourishes (together it means ‘that which nourishes the soul’)

*Note: Rooh Afza is a refreshing squash which was introduced in 1907. The flavour, the fragrance and the colour as well as the goodness remain unchanged and unparalled even after 100 years of its creation.


*Pakoras- Indian snacks

*Pattu saree- traditional south Indian silk saree

*Tulsi- a kind of basil (sacred plant in India).


 Picasso of masked emotions

Every day I masquerade as somebody else

I mask my sorrow by a brittle smile

I wander like a river

Among the rocks of silence

There is a reason behind my pregnant silence

There is pain in my vermilion heart

Hopelessness flowing in my blue blood

Still I say happiness is my crown!

I may not be like a clown

Whose mask is visible

But even a mask is masked by a mask!

I wear invisible masks every day

My past is the son of incubus

In my lonely laughter

Tears have become ashes

I remember my name

But lost its rainbow home

Some people can be found

Only in my memories

Some things survive

Only in my dreams

My pain is unseen

My desires are unfulfilled

My muffled sobs unheard

I know expressing my emotions

Would not bring any change

I lost my loving husband

But for the well-being

Of my little children

I became a ‘Picasso of masked emotions’!


My identity

A man with immense knowledge

Is a tree laden with fruits

I am happy that I can taste them

I am still a budding tree!


Great people are the perennial rivers

I don’t know if I can be like them

Now I am a leafless maple tree

Waiting with patience and faith

For the season of ‘happiness and triumph’!


That crooked man is a pitcher plant

Its bright colour and hair-like structures

Are all his tricks to trap

The liquid inside is his strength

But I am not that poor innocent insect!


People who hurt me are cacti

I am a touch-me-not plant

I am the sunshine in my parents’ heart

Their faith in me is a banyan tree

And my heart is a magnolia flower!       


All the beautiful looking girls

Are the tall pine trees

I may not look like them

I am an ugly contorted tree

Still I am happy and lucky

Because nobody can chop me down!


Ananya S Guha

Ananya S Guha

Ananya S Guha works in the Indira Gandhi National Open University, Shillong (Meghalaya) as an Academic Administrator. He has over 30 years of teaching and administrative experience. He has six collections of poetry and his forms have been published world wide. Some of his poems are due to appear soon in an Anthology of Indian Poetry in English to be published by Harper Collins.