Sohini Basak (pictured) was born in 1991 in
Kolkata. She studied literature for her undergraduate degree at St. Stephen’s
College, University of Delhi, during which she won prizes for her poetry at the
RædLeaf India as well as the Reliance-Unisun TimeOut competitions.
Her writing has been published (or is forthcoming) in journals such as Ink, Sweat and Tears; The Cadaverine; Ambit;
The Four Quarters Magazine; Helter Skelter and Muse India. She moved to the UK in September 2013 to study for an
MA in Writing at the University of Warwick where is working on her first
collections of poetry and short fiction.
How
to Breed Lilacs
First, learn not to stereotype
months, then walk
on all fours, sniffing the garden
soil, stop at the warmest
patch of earth. Then, dig. Dig deep,
dig with love, do not use
a shovel, dig until your ankles are
covered, upturn minerals
until the earthworms tickle your
toes. Always use your hands,
for everything. Watch out for the
microscopic snails who leave
behind trails, softer than your
fingers make. If you have powdered
bones, sprinkle them, with ceremony,
without hurting others.
Calcium works faster than singing
softly to growing plants. Plant
the tiny, the new, the
world-condensed-in-a-grain-full-of-potential
seeds. Another piece of advice: do
not use adjectives unless you
need them. So revised: plant those
seeds. Simply. Use more water
for libation, nothing else purifies,
nothing else soaks the soil, mixing
memory and desire. Afterwards, wash
your fingernails clean, return
to the kitchen, make yourself a cup
of tea. Again you will find the uses
of water. Dripdropdripdrop. Cup in hand,
sit down by the window,
you will see the seeds bursting out,
the roots travelling in tunnels
deeper than your reach. Then, you
will see the branches growing:
spreading out, those gray brown
birds, reaching towards
everywhere, you will see lilacs clustering,
each petal singular,
designed with your fingerprints.
poem COPYRIGHT POET 2014
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