Discomfort
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"Discomfort" lives in the space between silence and unrest. The poems are written from the shadowy experiences of Dehradun, yet I feel they reach somewhere beyond geography. These words nakedly explore the raw flesh of living in a city on its way to becoming a wasteland. I write freely. I am unconstrained by genre and form. My expressions do not offer resolution, but writing them feels as though they linger in the cracks of my skin. The cracks are valleys between belonging and alienation. Valleys between beauty and death. Valleys between the known and the unknown. While writing "Discomfort," I...
"Discomfort" lives in the space between silence and unrest. The poems are written from the shadowy experiences of Dehradun, yet I feel they reach somewhere beyond geography. These words nakedly explore the raw flesh of living in a city on its way to becoming a wasteland. I write freely. I am unconstrained by genre and form. My expressions do not offer resolution, but writing them feels as though they linger in the cracks of my skin. The cracks are valleys between belonging and alienation. Valleys between beauty and death. Valleys between the known and the unknown. While writing "Discomfort," I felt as though I stepped into a differently strange, shifting body, where the familiar in my mind turned strange and the strange turned familiar. "Discomfort" is, to me, a dimension in itself.
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