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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

04:42

In the Softest Sunshine of Winter

Uncut Poetry ·

2021/11/06

"I'd think the time for recrimination is long past it's witching hour. Your hand is still a stiff board when I reach out to it, and your body is still your own when I embrace it. You've been an icicle all through summer, but the time for bonfires is in - you have to let your long limbs find their way around me again." The ebb and flow of love, the turning away and the turning towards its glow, the little angers, the tiny bursts of disappointments - love's hurts which linger as love-bites, it's

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05:03

The Door is Unlocked. I am Awake.

Uncut Poetry ·

2021/10/30

Endings are ruthless. They make you forget every bit of acid existing in relationships in a moment. Regret pours in like the flood of a broken dam. But when the last line has been crossed, when the artery is cut to kill, the path reaches a crevasse - another step is a step into the valley of death. Deep inside all lovers know when that point has been reached. But hope - that great harbinger of false dawns - persists. It attempts to give color to what is irrevocably grey. And makes the one who been

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05:04

Crimson Flowers in Jallianwala Bagh

Uncut Poetry ·

2021/10/23

"Somewhere in the air, something whizzed past. I looked up to see Daar ji's kurta turn into a gorgeous crimson flower, with a small black pinpoint center." This poem is about what happens when a young child goes to Jallianwala Bagh with his grandfather on that fateful day in 1919. The Jallianwala Bagh massacre took place on 13 April 1919. A large but peaceful crowd had gathered at the Jallianwala Bagh in Amritsar, Punjab to celebrate the important Hindu and Sikh festival of Baisakhi, and

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05:27

The Final Good-bye (or Why Lovers Decide to Die...

Uncut Poetry ·

2021/10/16

"Keep looking at me as we die, let your look be in my final sigh, we've been compatriots of beginnings of which we thought there was no end - maybe, we'll be every love's destiny, a passing on, when there's no real reason why, except tiredness, tiredness, tiredness." Procreation is atavistic. But what about death wish? Not that point where a soul tethers at the edge of depression, but the one where you want to end things because there's nothing left beyond except pain, when life becomes a

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04:37

Searching for Coffee in Jaipur

Uncut Poetry ·

2021/10/09

"Peacocks are raucous and find roofs with easy comfort - there is still place in this concrete jungle, even if some hearts go for a walk in search of a soul. Do we find comfort in the quiet disregard of the unfamiliar?" Our search for the soul of a city is ever so twisted, as it should be. A city needs to be lived in. On its streets, one needs to be mauled with aromas, with its obsessions, with its politics, with its unkindness, with its unseeing generosities, what keeps it awake at night, and

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06:28

Finding Souls Between Their Legs

Uncut Poetry ·

2021/10/02

"Come to my house one afternoon, my bed's unmade for all lovers of mine, we will find ourselves at our wildest & truest when we reach the third bottle of wine. You can kiss me roughly, and push me down, and I will tell you once more - though you know thirty per cent of what I am, tonight you can be hundred per cent my man." I've always wondered what happens when two lonely souls meet. Are they able to recognize each other through their masks - of verbosity or sullenness? Is there repulsion of

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02:37:37

Lost Atlas of Belonging

Uncut Poetry ·

2021/09/25

"I am tired of finding you in places watermarked with our senses." The moment of change is a poem. The tranquil chaos of pain is a poem. The end of love is itself a poem. It's just that a poet can put it all into words. For a heartbroken lover, the city becomes a map of things found and lost at the same time. The heart becomes an almanac of bruises and scars. Everything precious seems to be lost, but there is still something which is held on tight. And nothing, nothing remains the

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04:04

These Darned Long Distance Relationships

Uncut Poetry ·

2021/09/18

"I inhale the fragrance of lavender from a candle lit at 559, I know you'd call at 6, and I want to feel as if you're here." By itself, love is a beating heart. Never ceases, never stops. It's just we, who fill it with our own insecurities, our fragility, our loneliness. We doubt ourselves hence we doubt the other, and view love as a paradigm of insecurity when all it is a temple which awaits return. They say love requires oxygen, reaffirmation, rejuvenation. When the truth is that all it

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04:07

Why Don‘t You Make Love to Me Anymore?

Uncut Poetry ·

2021/09/11

"There's so much I can give you yet, for I'm a poem you left three-fourths of the way, I promise I still have a syntax in bed, which might surprise the metaphor in you." What's love if there is no mischief in it? What's love of it doesn't become lazy sometimes and has to be given a jolt! In the infinite comfort of being the cynosure of one true love, also lies the seeds of it being taken for granted. As our soul preens in its attention, it also stretches like happy cat, and settles into the

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04:07

It Takes a Long Time to Arrive From Not Very Far Away

Uncut Poetry ·

2021/09/04

Excerpt from "It Takes a Long Time to Arrive From Not Very Far Away"* "Why do we do anything for the people we love, you asked, isn't everything a poem we write for the other, every day, day in day out? Then why is love demanded as diligence, when you can have it as grace?" Hear the full poem in the latest episode of Uncut Poetry Podcast We take so much for granted. The air we breathe, the flowers we touch, the curve of the path we walk on every morning, the very person sleeping beside us, who

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05:30

Hope is Merely Fear With a Poor Choice of Lipstick

Uncut Poetry ·

2021/08/28

"I am exhausted with mornings with their false pretenses and promises, and wonder what it would take to stop it from decorating itself with silver and gold and light and lies, and merely let us be the honest suicide candidates, who see every bright start to a day and know the hypocrisy ready to unravel as a brilliant bright day." Every morning we wake up with an array of feelings racing inside us, conflicting emotions, from fury to peace, from exhaustion to exuberance. And depending on what we

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14:54

Uncut Poetry Salon featuring the Poetry Busker Ryan...

Uncut Poetry ·

2021/08/21

Ryan Tomlin, based out of Leeds in UK, became an author at the age of 17. He loved the experience so much he decided that being a successful and best selling author was his ultimate goal. He sent his book to publishers all over. Alas, the only one who agreed to publish asked for 2500 pounds in payment. After that he wrote four more books- all of them rejected by publishers. Till, on his 20th birthday he started writing what later became his 5th book - The Transition. He decided to self publish

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03:40

The Power of No

Uncut Poetry ·

2021/08/14

"I was a survivor of religious texts which left morsels at my doorstep as they made their way to their lofty definitions." Big revolutions often have beginnings in nooks and crannies - a kitchen or a closet, a garage or a heart. To confront the world, a general could be less than five feet high, to have a voice which resonates through the world, one could be a tiny teenager speaking in the softest of falsettos. The power of what we want comes from intent, the wind beneath the wings comes from

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04:45

Love is an Unreasonable Yearner

Uncut Poetry ·

2021/08/07

"Love is such an unreasonable yearner - full-hearted but empty-handed: it can give a treasure out of nothing, but can never ask to be gifted one." We are all, at various times, givers or takers. Giving is easy when we care, though not when we don't. But when conjoined with commitment, we can continue giving, through our anger, disillusionment or grief. But asking, in the best of times, can be an effort. In that brief interlude between desire and expectation, we have to put ourselves out, turn

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06:10

Bringing The Storm Home

Uncut Poetry ·

2021/07/31

Passion as lust is so underrated. It is bequeathed to youth, dismissed as elemental, in passing, as age progresses it is assumed dead on arrival. It's somehow taken as recreational, it is taken as something which is done - and done with. It is taken as an aberration if it floods you, you are a mendicant if you can control it, a vamp if you let it possess you, an offender if it affects every part of your life. So much of passion is denigrated, even as we fall in lust before falling in love, even

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43:19

Uncut Poetry Salon featuring the Award-Winning...

Uncut Poetry ·

2021/07/24

Welcome to the Salon edition of Uncut Poetry. In the Salon edition, we will feature interviews of cutting-edge poets, readings of my favorite poetry, reviews of poetry books which I have fallen in love with, and pretty much everything related to poetry. Every month, once a week! In the inaugural episode, we feature the African-American poet Katerina Canyon. Katerina Canyon is an Award Winning Poet, Best Selling Author, Civil Rights Activist, and Essayist. She grew up in Los Angeles and much

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04:29

Heartbreak

Uncut Poetry ·

2021/07/17

"You will seek other beds and alien alleys, and make yourself lonelier with every journey, as you dream of me in the false dawn of other arms, not knowing me as someone with a lonely soul." Every relationship is a journey. Where it starts is in a fuzzy past, but equally amorphous is how it ends. Because endings are never surgical cuts, but a bunch of tassels, each thread a possible way out - or way in. And that's what reality is. Because people change. How we feel changes. What we feel

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07:01

Tea With Naomi Shihab Rye

Uncut Poetry ·

2021/07/10

Naomi Shihab Nye is a Palestinian American poet. Her poetry shimmers with the anguish of a whole battered nation. But it is also full of gratitude, as she notices the smallest of things and urges the reader to find grace in them. For the last two months, every morning I read a poem by her. A single poem. It will probably take me years to finish all her books. But I don't care. Because this daily ritual cleanses me, readies me to face the world, with equanimity and thankfulness. I feel, now she

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05:21

Mother's Rambling Lessons on Life Imparted in Morning...

Uncut Poetry ·

2021/07/03

My mother, like so many other mothers, is a treasure house of tales. But with a twist - she is the hero of all her stories. More than the classical tales of Mahabharata and Ramayana, more than the O Henry's and Guy de Maupassant's I devoured whilst growing up, her tales were the ones which had the deepest influence. How her resilience won over indignities piled on her in a traditional Indian family, how she turned the tables in favor of a charity she was working with when a government official

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04:06

Extraordinary Life

Uncut Poetry ·

2021/06/26

Even if we don't notice it, our senses never forget the value of the insignificant. Of the sun falling on our feet, of that one teardrop falling on our hand, of that longing which fills our world, of that single remembrance which is enough to destroy everything, before it attempts to build something again. But ever so often, our senses bring these moments into our beings slowly, gently, sadly, when everything around us is collapsing - and we realize that we don't miss the big celebrations or the

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310 results

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