Four Hands
Four Hands

Four hands divided by two
Sprawl across bass and treble and the space between.

Four hands means
Twenty fingers moving in tandem and all for
One song.

Play passing the parcel with one line of notes surging through these
Dancing fingers.

There is no room to breathe because these
Four hands have used up all the air, and
Any extra beneath the blacks.

Four hands acrobat across ivory
And the distance from the
First to eighty eighth key doesn’t seem like an ocean anymore.

All four hands don’t always play at the same time —
You rest while I run and draw a melody into the atmosphere.

One hand writes poetry and two make a song but
Four hands tie a thread around staves that tell stories that never existed.

Can we please carve four bars of music under the bench of this
Instrument and
Return when we have four hands to play them to life?

Sanaya

Sanaya is a lawyer in Bombay. She currently spends most of her time reading and drafting documents. If she’s not doing that, she’s playing music, writing, or planning what to eat, next.

Ouevre

How to Leave a Note

Poetry by Sanaya

What matters is how you leave a note A musical note, pressed down by your fingers, hammer to string to sound, will echo what’s in your head while you play...
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Victory Dance

Poetry by Sanaya

Let me dance my Victory dance around the anarchy that crumbles Inside me. Rubber band arms stretch far out Collision Rejection Dismantle this machinery of misery, let each bolt fall...
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Mindful

Prose by Sanaya

I’m trying to be mindful. Imagine a body filled with wide, brown eyes, searching for secrets. Imagine a hand yearning to feel a drop of sunlight on its palm. Now...
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Anthology

आज हमने फिर से एक कमाल का करिश्मा देखा


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Poetry by आज हमने फिर से एक कमाल का करिश्मा देखा

आज हमने फिर से एक कमाल का करिश्मा देखा ख़ुश्क, प्यासी, तपती धरती के सीने मे, अचानक पता नहीं कहाँ से कुछ बादलों ने ढ़ेर सारा बारिश का पानी उढ़ेल...
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All That is Given

Poetry by Frank Golden

Hard wind on the turn at Cappaghmore. You drive on, on the cusp of light, along the old road past Mortyclough. To think it’s taken me a lifetime to cool...
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