Blues

Were you looking for long?
You can always find me

Where?
Oh you can find me where the blues meet.

Look into the sifting clouds
And follow their path
You will see me there
Relaxing, flying
You will find my abandon
My spirit
My energy
My smile

Look into the rising wave
And catch it’s sensual shade
You will find me in the smooth pastel
Teasing, flirting
You will find my freedom
My joy
My playfulness
My desires

But maybe you’re looking for another colour?

Don’t look far
You can always find me
Where the blues meet.

Look into the rippling waves
And catch their changing shades
You will find the facets of my mind
Learning, growing
You will read my thoughts
My reflections
My past
My journeys

Look into the shadows in the ocean
Watch the clouds, setting their dark shade
You will find the corners of my heart
Mellow, sad
You will feel the gravity of my being
My nostalgia
My memories
My attachments

Maybe you’re looking for just one colour,
Just one shade?

Then look far
Look for where the blues meet
You will find my whole

Look beyond the sky and the ocean
Look at where they meet
You will see that the shades come together
My past, my future
Merge into what you see in complete stillness
You will feel my present
My now
My universe
My eternal.

And you won’t need to look
For another colour
Another shade
You will be with me.

Neha Kothari

The part of me that expresses itself through words or art is the one that never grew up. I always had a brush, colours, a pen, chalk in my hand as a child.

I fell in love with literature when I heard Shakespeare being recited — on audio tapes. I used to play them before sleeping, and listen to poetry and literature — and so much more — come alive.

I started expressing experiences, mine or others, through words and published my first book when I was 14. My Dad insisted that I learn how to present my work and get it published. That year was a year of learning. Of illustrations, of approaching people and understanding finer nuances of getting my work out in the open. Out of my small diary, magnified and exposed.

Poetry reminds me that though life can be hard, we have a tremendous capacity to be vulnerable. And in that lies an unmatched strength.

Ouevre

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