The metaphor doesn’t end with a comparison, it is rather a form of confession in disguise of craft. Because it enables us to declare that “I am broken” without ever referring to being broken. In my writing, I chase metaphors like fireflies, those little stars that bring emotions to life. My coffee cup turns intoContinue reading “M – Metaphor Master Class(Where the hidden meaning lurks in mirrors)”
Author Archives: Amanya
Love Letters To Book
Some books are not just confined to our shelves.Instead, they are part of the letters unsent,the conversations that keep coming back. Sometimes, to read a book is to write to that someonewhom I am so desperately longing to meet again –that someone who can make me laugh out loudas if every single laugh mark wasContinue reading “Love Letters To Book”
Kolkata Literary Corners
Literature is woven into every inch of Kolkata from the great Kalam Literary Meet at Kala Mandir to the quiet Literature Corner of Behala, wherein stories aren’t just narrated but taught. Book clubs blossom like flowers in the evenings — from the Shakespearean Society to Book Lover’s Club and the quaint meetings where chai andContinue reading “Kolkata Literary Corners”
J – Journaling as Pre‑Poetry(Where raw thoughts rehearse before they sing)
Poetry isn’t born in its complete form.The first spark arises in the midst of journaling:fragmented thoughts, incomplete sentences,chai stains along the edges,moments of feeling frozen just before they disappear. The act of journaling is a space for rehearsal.In it, truth emerges unbidden,words falter, blushing, learning to breathe.Then comes the time when those same fragments —Continue reading “J – Journaling as Pre‑Poetry(Where raw thoughts rehearse before they sing) “
Identity In Ink
Each poem I compose leaves its own fingerprint.Not one that can be seen, but felt.At times, my identity lies in the cadence of a line,at other times, it lies in the space between two lines.Every revision mirrors back to me,who I am when I penned it,who I am now. Writing is more than a mereContinue reading “Identity In Ink”
How I Edit Poetry(H — The Honest Drafts)
Poetry editing is not about perfection. It is about listening.I read out loud until the poem breathes correctly.I remove lines that sound clever but are untrue.I retain those that shake me. I sometimes change words not for the sake of rhyme but for truth.I sometimes preserve broken lines because a gap speaks louder than grammar.Continue reading “How I Edit Poetry(H — The Honest Drafts) “
Gratitude In Verse
For the morning’s first light, soft upon the curtains, for the steam rising from my cup, warming my hands to stillness — I give thanks. For laughter that finds me again, for silence that teaches me peace, for the words that return when I stop chasing them — I give thanks. Gratitude isn’t grand; it’sContinue reading “Gratitude In Verse”
First Lines That HookOpening Lines That Stopped Me in My Tracks.
Some first lines do more than just grab your attention. They stop you mid-way through scrolling, or taking a sip of your drink, or simply thinking! I’ve been hooked on first lines that capture an entire universe in a single sentence. A first line is not only an introduction. It’s also an invitation. It’s aContinue reading “First Lines That HookOpening Lines That Stopped Me in My Tracks.”
Event Echoes: What I Learned at a Literary Festival
Literary festivals are not mere assemblies of words but worlds come together.Each dialogue felt like stepping into someone else’s imagination. Here, I understood that stories did not necessarily come to an end on the closing page but extended further in the quiet of the reader’s heart.Here, I saw that every writer possesses courage along withContinue reading “Event Echoes: What I Learned at a Literary Festival”
Drafts & Doubts: The Poem I Never Finished
I began with a word—soft, trembling, unsure.It tried to become a feeling,but feelings are stubborn things. Halfway through, the rhythm broke,like a thought that lost its breath.I left it there—between ink and hesitation. Maybe some poems aren’t meant to end.They just linger,like the echo of what we almost said This Post is part of BlogchatterA2ZContinue reading “Drafts & Doubts: The Poem I Never Finished”
