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PODCAST

Uncut Poetry

Sunil Bhandari is a poet by compulsion. He says he survives in this world because he can get to write poetry. This podcast is of his poetry.

arts performing arts

All Episodes

08:00

The Truth of Lies

Uncut Poetry ·

2022/12/24

"I will learn someday that truth is a flight from penumbra to light, from the man scared to show his scars, to the child I can be to the world; there’s innocence in truth, it makes others reveal their wounds." The biggest truth of lies is also the most uncomfortable - we tell lies to deflect our truths, not only from others but also ourselves . If we are sensitive to ourselves and our worlds, we find a twitch in our conscience. If we are inured and leathered and layered,

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07:14

Let Life Break Your Heart

Uncut Poetry ·

2022/12/17

Each one of us is such a complex mess. Even the most sorted of us passes through noisy bazaars of wavering decisions, competing choices and moral dilemmas. And we invariably are victims of our own pitiable choices. The right and wrong of things is often simpler to decipher than what is right or wrong in the moment. Our ethical dilemma is often a post-act regret or engendered by the heat of revelation. We slip, we regret, we get punished. Then we either move on - or rot in the prison of our

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05:44

A Guide To The Difficult Art of Life (Whilst Making...

Uncut Poetry ·

2022/12/10

"We made love in our own way, not calamitous, not celebratory in the end, she didn’t relent, I didn’t fail, my love redeemed at the altar of sex. I held her close, more comfort than desire, we both knew we’d now reached a phase - for love is a feral cry in some throats, and in some it survives with a gentle ache." I think too much has been said of the sublimity of lovemaking and too title of it’s difficulties. The mechanics are intuitive, not the art. There are subtleties which makes the

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05:57

How Can I Remain Calm

Uncut Poetry ·

2022/12/03

"I have seen the future hold stars in its hands not knowing how plastic were dreams. I didn’t want the sound of my breaking heart resound such that the solar system be proved wrong but I have seen seamless skies filled with light and wonder to be only refractions from the jagged shards of broken hearts." I have seen the most deprived child dream. Dream to become an astronaut, nothing less. Her family eats one meal a day, sends her to a school to give alphabets to her dreams, and tells her in the

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05:30

The One Who Left (Herself Behind)

Uncut Poetry ·

2022/11/26

Life pauses when heartbreaks occur - and then it doesn’t. It’s the nature of the beast that nothing stops. But momentum is often not a substitute for reparation. Time sutures wounds, but the scar is insubstitutable - and it often glows when we are lonely. And as memories tumble in, we tumble down. What comes as a rush are gestures and flourishes, the quirky and the infinitesimal, and the forgotten becomes unforgettable. We remember nothing huge but remember her hugely. For the fact is that people

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05:18

Infinite Tenderness

Uncut Poetry ·

2022/11/19

One of the abiding joys of growing old together is to remember insignificant minutiae - some which hurt like pebbles in a shoe and some which effortlessly made us remember why we were together. To persevere in the complex dynamic of personal desires and conjoined plans is itself a triumph. For if there’s one thing which relationships demand - after they’ve concretised the shaky foundations of love and blown apart its airy notions - is to see each other with new eyes after years of togetherness

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07:00

The Life & Times of a Song

Uncut Poetry ·

2022/11/12

I can never forget the Sharukh Khan movie, Main Hoon Na, when a celestial orchestra comes in and he automatically starts singing , as soon as he sees the gorgeous Sushmita Sen being her ethereal self in incredible sarees. And I remember thinking - this is a superb idea, and what wouldn’t I do to have this facility from god?! But, alas, as the heavens never listened in to my desires, I curate my own music for my variegated moods. I play music to the beat of my breath. As I brush my teeth, as I

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06:16

In the Winter of Our Relationships

Uncut Poetry ·

2022/11/05

NOTE - There are some recording audio disturbances in the first minute. Do excuse. What is it about conversations, that the ones most essential, are the ones we avoid the most? With our anger or distress brimming over, are we afraid to show the power the other has over us to leave us with such vulnerability? Are we just frightened of the uncharted route the conversation might take? Are we afraid that however tenuous the fraught relationship, this was still one precious relationship, and why

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04:49

And I Know These of You

Uncut Poetry ·

2022/10/29

One of the unending and unerring charms of knowing people is to know them as flawed people, whose very kinks make them the weird loveable irritating entities, who infuriate us but equally make us caring custodians of them. The particularities of their weirdness is not meant for history books. It is often no more than the whimsy of habit, the caprice of reaction, or the peculiarity of a stand they take - nothing which takes away from who they are, nothing which requires a shovel to check their

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04:35

Such are Such Days (or the days I make love to her)

Uncut Poetry ·

2022/10/22

Making love can be the tenderest experience of a day. Truth be told, the day should start and end with it - with nothing, nothing else to take away from its tangy exuberance. Those moments should be the day. But - we have to move on. There are things to be done. There are commitments to fulfil, a job to go to, groceries to be bought, a plumber to be contacted. And suddenly such days get redefined, the Northern Lights lose their effulgence, not only by contrast, but because everything humdrum

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04:09

Ceremony of Longing

Uncut Poetry ·

2022/10/15

"Often I see myself hiding inside myself wondering how many biographies of pain will I see as my own." It’s almost a cliché to say that we are much more the reaction then what we are in the action. It is not ideal, but it is a reality. Our lives are touched at a million sensory points throughout the day. Stories, requests, exhortations, kindnesses, things we say which boomerang, acts we do which come back to us as benediction. We are an amalgam of what we give and what we get - and what we make of

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06:15

The Passing of Autumn

Uncut Poetry ·

2022/10/08

"There's no love like the hour, and when noise swirls in the world, it's the companionship of breath which saves souls with its being" We are blessed that seasons - and the seasons of our lives - are marked by the pomp and grace of festivities. We welcome and we let go, we conjoin and we celebrate. And in both the comings and goings, we are left forever changed. What is it about the passages of rituals that we are never left unmoved? As if it is not just Diwali or Id or Christmas, but an

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04:49

Finding Parking Lots (for Love)

Uncut Poetry ·

2022/10/01

The passage of time and the passage of expectations are inversely related. So much of what we hope for slips through the sly slivers of time. What we dreamt of is folded quietly, and put beneath our heads, for us to sleep on in seamless blankness. All exhortations for destinations result only in unspecified directions, and a future rife with its own life. We are rarely given what we desire. But therein lies the universe’s ironic dilemma. Embedded in the mystery of choices, lies one for us. Not

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06:09

How I Stumbled in My Search for Eternity

Uncut Poetry ·

2022/09/24

What are we if not morsels in this universe searching for meaning? If we are alive to the moment we float through life; if we battle with time to get its predominance, we find passages with hurdles; and if we search and mull and have conversations with life to figure out it’s import, we find false endings. What are we to do if not wrestle with ourselves, to give credence to our struggles? We face life with our hands curled into fists, battle-ready, already battle-weary. We think it is a race to

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06:17

When I Hear the Whistle of a Passing Train

Uncut Poetry ·

2022/09/17

The passing of a speeding train. It’s whistle from afar. The smoke from the now-disappearing steam engines. The rapidly decreasing chug-chug as it leaves a railway station. These sounds and images are sepia-tinted in my memory, fraying at the ends with passing time. But making me remember - what a time that was. And I drown so heavily in the past, that I wallow and I wonder - is nostalgia a benediction or a curse? Writers extol me - don’t drown in that lake, or your words would forever be cursed

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05:35

On Some Additions to Introspective Psychology

Uncut Poetry ·

2022/09/10

We lose out on so much of life because we know lesser and lesser of lucidity. We find knots where none exist. We tie ourselves up when there is nobody out to do it. What is it about the wiring of our brains that we revel in complexity and then dream of a simpler life? It is the nature of the world we live in that pushes us towards choices and then watches in glee as we careen over the cliff. But life is nothing if not of the present and the persistent. As a species we want to hurry - noodles in

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04:19

Flutter

Uncut Poetry ·

2022/09/03

So much of what we do is a matter of awakenings and slumber. Literally and figuratively, we go to sleep in doubt and awaken with certitudes. But ironically the importance lies in the drift. Because that’s when we are true to ourselves, and not berating the universe for its shingle or rust. The magic is in the moment. To love, to ease into lovemaking and then to sigh into remission, are life’s unasked-for gifts, for us to know that whatever the flutter vicissitudes would bring into our worlds,

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07:43

Of Bodies in Bed & Uncertain Joys

Uncut Poetry ·

2022/08/27

A marriage is already beset with contrariness in its very idea. They say, anthropologically, a marriage is against man’s overriding instinct to rampantly spread his seed, to ensure progeny from someone at least. Nature-wise, it goes against the principle of seeking fulfilment, because one person can rarely, if ever, fulfil the myriad parts of a person's needs. I can be gregarious but end up with a self effacing private wife. I’m bursting with the need to reach out, talk, swap tales and have a

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05:07

For Anyone Who Bleeds

Uncut Poetry ·

2022/08/20

These past few days, I’m thinking a lot about the reality of a nation, and time and again I’m coming back to the idea of a nation. I talk to people who love this country - possibly can die for it - but when questioned about the state of the nation, are either heartbroken, broken, or ready to break something. There’s an atlas of indignation inside them and they follow its contours whenever the country is discussed. The atlas has only troughs and heights. But the tops are reached with difficulty and

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04:34

Windblown Om

Uncut Poetry ·

2022/08/13

Mornings are strange places. They are an urging, a calling, a welcoming. But often they are a desperation, a question, a challenge. We define it, the way we lean into it. But by its mere presence, it provides space to our lives. If we seek to be presences, knowing how to let the universe pass through us such that we can be witnesses to our own lives and to the world, we can let the morning be a blessing. But if we seek to fight battles with its incessant periodicity, cursing it for its quotidian

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310 results

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