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My Muse, Delhi: Poetry That Captures the City's Soul

byRachit SharmaIn-person readings and salons across Delhi NCR and BengaluruStarts from400 Per PersonView full gallery

Delhi is a tangled love story of ruins, seasons, and collective memories. These poems are my letters to its streets, from the silence of Lodhi Garden to the humidity of a Jamia rain.

A poem titled 'Lodhi's', which captures a scene in the iconic Delhi garden. It paints a picture of the city's ruins, its people, and its quiet corners, ending with the image of a cold dream sleeping next to a poet.

A poem titled 'Indian Coffee Home', which evokes the atmosphere of the classic Delhi establishment. The poem layers generations of history, imagining buried eggs and wise grandmother-like banyan trees in the heart of the city.

A poem titled 'Jamia in June rains', which captures a specific moment and feeling in a part of Delhi. It weaves together observations of the sky, a lover's smile, and the concept of 'pink noise' to create a tender, atmospheric piece.

A poem titled 'please come back, Delhi's spring is leaving...'. This piece personifies Delhi's spring as a departing lover, capturing the grief and beauty of the changing season through images of Semal, Jacaranda, and Gulmohar trees.

A poem titled 'handful of dusheri', which connects the act of eating mangoes to memory and maternal lineage. It's a tribute to a simple, seasonal ritual that holds generations of love and stories of farther distances.

A poem titled 'of hometowns & cremation grounds...'. This piece reflects on the nature of memory, pain, and loss associated with one's hometown, describing it as both a playground and a crematorium for dreams.

A poem titled 'Lady Frog', which recounts a ridiculous lullaby my father used to sing. The poem captures a moment of shared, unrestrained laughter and the safe, soft sleep that followed, blending humor with tenderness.

About My Muse, Delhi

My Delhi poems are not meant to be read in isolation, but felt as a shared experience. Whether we are sitting with the ghosts of the Sultanate in Lodhi Garden or discussing the scent of damp earth after a rain in Jamia, these verses serve as starting points for our own conversations about the city we call home. If you want to experience these words in the very spaces that inspired them, let us talk about organizing a salon or a guided walk in your favorite Delhi haunt.

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