This March, I’m looking forward to reading from my forthcoming collection of poetry and short stories at the DIVA Literary Festival. I shared some of this work at last year’s event and, as I write this column, I’m in Kerala completing the book.
I’ve written poetry and songs since I was a teenager and developed this discipline with a monthly women’s writing group – a beautiful safe space to share deeply personal work with much more established authors. Writing is something I’ve used as a tool to deal with trauma but also to better understand myself. In 2006, I read Julia Cameron’s groundbreaking The Artist’s Way and have maintained a daily writing practice since. Consequently, I have scores of journals and written work that feels like a body of work that is ready to be shared. Reading through this work has been emotional. I’ve had to pace myself, escaping to the plantations of Munnar to dedicate time to it. This has allowed me to process and grow, in isolation, under my own care. In many ways, this written collection covers two chapters in my life; my family and my marriage. There are patterns that express themselves in both these relationships that form two core sections of my life. I lost my family when I married my (now ex) wife. I see the parallels in my behaviour now. In both relationships, I was not able to fully be myself.