June Nandy is the queen of poetry. This is clearly reflected in her new book "The lines must die"

March 16, 2011 - PRLog -- June Nandy is a published poet, short story writer, reviewer, ghazal singer, teacher and a translator from Calcutta, India. A post graduate in English Literature and Hindi, Bachelors in Education, post graduate diploma in Translation Science (Gold Medalist) and a diploma in Public Relations. Her writings has been published world wide in reputed international and national journals like Taj Mahal Review, Sein und Werden, Femina, Frontier, Poetry Super Highway and other corporate journals. She can be accessed at her blog: http://throughmystripedshirt.blogspot.com

Poem from  "The lines must die"

mon amour

You say, halve your brain,
keep the cubicles in the left,
valley of flowers in the right,
let there not be a crevasse,
we need those green papers.

Ah, how can I forget the grocer,
people, who hold our roof,
our flesh, still in the lower case?

I’ve built a bridge;
bringing the grass to my work,
dragging the chair sometimes to the dreams.
And you took flight to the mountain tops.

You tell me, times are like living with cannibals;
I wish, like pre-historic times, you could
sometimes let loose the beast into me.

When I slide my hands into yours, I wish
you’d twist it sharp and break me; but
my hands get stamped by your warmth,
I remain glued to you.

The final betrayal awaits us
in your passionate work;
in my creative cooking.

Amitabh Mitra, Poet/Artist from South Africa rightly pointed out that June Nandy remains one of the very few Indian poets whose work has a stark reminder of a broader landscape of Central India. She has the control of words that runs in a fluidity, being intrinsically involved while doing her masters in English and Hindi literature. A true Indo-English poet who can describe the vast Gangetic plains and its people in a language which does justice to both English and Hindi, June Nandy in spite of staying in Calcutta has drawn inspiration in her own words  'The air has a fever; I cannot ride his back-I catch him in short breaths'.

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