Haibun 1
I see kites flying in the blue sky, playing with the clouds and the crows heeded home. I see it being tugged and pulled, the thread firmly held in hands that determine its course. The reel in another hand that lets go for a while and holds back again. There is no way it can determine its own course. Till another tug and pull. Another kite fighting its way. it falls finally torn and battered as it hangs on a bare brown branch
Haibun 2
She looks at her mother working in the makeshift kitchen on the footpath that is their home. A home they share with many others. She picks up the slate framed in plastic, the corners broken. She looks for something to write with. And picks up a pieces of a broken brick that lies around. The chalk to write with. no alphabets a few lines and curves smiles and hues
Nishi Pulugurtha
Nishi Pulugurtha is academic, author, poet and translator. Her publications include: travel writing – Out in the Open, Across and Beyond; poetry – The Real and the Unreal and Other Poems, Raindrops on the Periwinkle, Looking Poems; short stories – The Window Sill and essays – Lockdown Times. She is also the Secretary of the Intercultural Poetry and Performance Library.