Sand

I did fall you know?

Skid into baleful yellow

Was soaked in all of it

And sat dripping on the shore

My throat hurts you know? 

Croaking such a broken ochre

I haven't eaten in three days

I haven't had your touch

Come soothe my fever

Just one periwinkle sprinkle?

Your wings are so fragile you know?

My fingers might go through

Our secrets are killing us you know?

Slicing us purple 

I think those are centipedes 

Crawling and now jumping green fatness onto leaves

Those are evil butterflies you know?

Ready to take flight

They will tell the world our secrets

Pollinate our misery into young flowers!

What shall we do my love?

This sand could be soothing you know?

We could slide down and bury here

We do not need to tell them you know?

We do not need to tell each other

Let us go deeper than this ocean hanging here

Further down than its whale songs

-

Chandni Girija

Day 06 of 30 | 30 Poems in 30 Days | Global Poetry Writing Month #napowrimo #napowrimo2026

Nun-naani

Nun-naani nun-naani

Nunni-nun-naani

Nun-naani nun-naani

Nunni-nun-naani

Black nose grape eyes

Nunni-nun-naani

Bum wiggle copter tail 

Nunni-nun-naani

Egg dance chicken dance

Walk dance

Side glance

Slide-under-leaf slow-motion trance

Intact males are beautiful

Biped males are scary ghouls

Cats are curse

Urine-marked stumps wonderful library

Nun-naani nun-naani

Nunni-nun-naani

Human has done 

Weak whistle again

Trot trot trot 

Legs four trot

Up down up down

Ears two flop!

Nun-naani nun-naani

Nunni-nun-naani

Hurt human port belly

Hurl-jump

Kiss-gaze stance!

Egg dance chicken dance 

Side glance 

Walk plop trot 

Back glance!!

Nun-naani nun-naani

Nunni-nun-naani

Nun-naani nun-naani

Nunni-nun-naani

-

Chandni Girija 

Day 05 of 30 | 30 Poems in 30 Days | Global Poetry Writing Month #napowrimo #napowrimo2026

Bumble Bio

My goodness, the blueness!

When did she grow those veins

And those lips?

I am throbbing adolescence

In my late thirties?

Corn-fed dog food

They actually meant horses

Multiplying daily

Gnomes

I like this rum cake 

This Christmas evening 

And this American television

-

Chandni Girija

Day 04 of 30 | 30 Poems in 30 Days | Global Poetry Writing Month #napowrimo #napowrimo2026

The Monkey Man

Just as the weather

The monkey man

Would jump jump down my chest

And onto my arm

Just as the weather

The monkey man

Would slither on my wrist

And run a running gash

Just as the weather

The monkey man

Would plop plop plop down the floor

I sit here watching drops of my blood

I sit here watching my life ebb away 

I wouldn't move 

My eyes would move

"Catch catch catch"

"Catch the monkey man"

Just as the weather

Would beat down the horizon

My eyes would fall 

Upon the floor

And the floor would catch 

My beaten eyes

My colden gaze

Just as the weather

Would turn 

So cold cold cold

-

Chandni Girija 

Day 03 of 30 | 30 Poems in 30 Days | Global Poetry Writing Month #napowrimo #napowrimo2026

Balcony

Such squareness his shoulders

The white banyan

The white thread

The astuteness his arms

The fairness his nape

Such shapeness his back

My new knowledge is round

-

Chandni Girija 

Day 02 of 30 | 30 Poems in 30 Days | Global Poetry Writing Month #napowrimo #napowrimo2026

Eyelore

Maroon

Lifting in a cloud

A saree swaying in the crowd

An elephant sashaying plod

It is like a bullet to my chest

A burst so sudden I am gone

Then I am back

And I watch 

Eyelashes

So long 

Irises brown, pupils red

World round

Swallowing all down 

I wallow like a pillow

Holding the punch of the resting head

It makes no sense I know 

But for crying out loud

Wetness flows like no stops

Breaking in thuds

Over little dams

Wetness seeps

Irrigates the field

Do these seeds break ground?

-

Chandni Girija

Day 01 of 30 | 30 Poems in 30 Days | Global Poetry Writing Month #napowrimo #napowrimo2026

A Turmeric Secret

It sleeps in the morning's bosom

A turmeric secret

The dead rat has been dried 

By yesterday's sun

Today it has turned to a papad

The hungry dog sniffs at it hopefully 

The morning joggers balk 

The school traffic begins to assemble

Night is now a small dot 

On this street

The morning clutches 

The front end of its sari

And tucks it in the waist

The morning is such a boisterous lady

She sweeps away the remaining specks

Of the howling night

The weakly protesting night

-

Chandni Girija 

Day 28 of 30 | 30 Poems in 30 Days | Global/National Poetry Writing Month #napowrimo

Why do I Write?

Why so many colours

Bursting, mixing, shading

Why so many colours

Why these tunes

Why the rhythms 

Why add the music 

Why animate the words

I think I want to paint

I think I want to sing

I think I want to dance

And all I do is write

All I can do is write 

All I can do through writing

All I can do through just writing 

Little rivers inside me

All they want is to flow

Painting rivers

Song rivers

Dance rivers

They dam against my inanimate hands

My inanimate voice 

All I do is type

All I can do is type 

Bore little holes on the dams

Channel the struggling water

Temper the flow

All the water wants is to flow

The water 

The water must flow

Must, must flow

The water must flow

-

Chandni Girija

Day 27 of 30 | 30 Poems in 30 Days | National Poetry Writing Months #napowrimo

I have been asking myself why my poem posts on some mediums are in a certain way. Lately, they have been ending up on YouTube. This is a meta piece on that line of enquiry. However, the biography of the why is still incomplete, I suspect. 

This would have been a fitting last day poem. It came out today though. 🙂 This is one of those poems that requires recitation; not so much of a cerebral one. But then, again, I am trying to sing 🙂

Chandanapottu

He hides today

Clouds, clouds are his bastion

I catch him

In glimpses and slivers

He knows I do

Today he let

A drop slip

A drop I caught 

In my palm 

A clear drop with a silver sheen  

Is it a tear drop?

Or is it his blood?

How do I ask?

Such questions are not polite

And our distance is not malleable 

I mix coarse chandanam in it

I apply the paste on my forehead

In his shape 

This is how 

I go to work today 

- 

Chandni Girija 

Chandanam is sandalwood. Chandanapottu is the bindi ... 

Day 26 of 30 | 30 Poems in 30 Days | National Poetry Writing Month #napowrimo

त्रेथा

I am the disco floor

As I am opening the door

Round colored lights in my eyes

A dominant rhythm everywhere

In my ear drums

Center of my chest 

My toes

My whole being in angling

Only for your presence

The peephole is not needed

My body has already told me

All left for you, my sweet

Is to enter

And yet 

This moment seems to stretch

Into several years

Why? 

Do you hear my breathless whisper?

Why, why, why ... 

-

Chandni Girija 

Day 25 of 30 | 30 Peoms in 30 Days | National Poetry Writing Month #napowrimo

Eye-ly Water

This is a serious matter 
The stone has bitten the tooth
After walking this long, long noon
The face has tanned the sun 
After this long, long day
The night has skidded over the old lady
Looking at that lonely, lonely dog
The moon has barked irritatedly 
Why are you uttering such sophisticated Marathi
Sleep has tugged at the eyelids 

-
Chandni Girija

This is a translation of the Day Seven Marathi poem, Dolas Pani. One of the #NaPoWriMo participants, Paula, had asked for the text of the poem (as I had posted it as an image with artwork). Paula, apart from posting her own work, engages with that of others on the #NaPoWriMo community. She puts energy into others. May her beauty stay protected and inspire others. This is my way of thanking her. It is due to people like Paula, who give support to other artists, that art thrives. I try to do my bit, a little bit.

*The adjective of 'eyes' is not working in English; it's not present in Marathi too but the word 'dolas' is an invention [by me]. I have sometimes twisted and played with terms this way. 'Dolas Pani' - I had uttered this for the first [and probably the only time] in front of a friend. I really liked the term and wanted to document it in some way. And it happened, more than a decade later, as the title of this poem!!

What is the Address of Your Grave?

I had lost a limb
Or was it a chest chunk
There was bleeding
There was howling
I would look into the mirror
And notice a missing part
I tried many mirrors
Always something
Something erased, blackened
And now I watch the mirrors
I am different
Something has grown
Is it a limb?
Or a chest chunk?
Something is neatly pencilled 
Well-coloured 
These have been hazy days,
My dear
All that began with one,
Clear decision

-

Chandni Girija

Day 13 of 30 | 30 Poems in 30 Days | National Poetry Writing Month #napowrimo

ചൊറി

നാഥാ... ആട്ടെ എന്തുകൊണ്ടാണ് 

പുരുഷൻമാരെ 'നാഥാ' എന്ന്  സംബോധന ചെയ്യുന്നത്?

'ഹെഡ് ഓഫ് ദി ഫാമിലി' ആയതുകൊണ്ടാണോ?

അപ്പോൾ സ്ത്രികൾ വാലാണോ?

ആ... അതുതന്നെ

അതുകൊണ്ടല്ലെ ചില പെണ്ണുങ്ങളെ

'വല്ലി' എന്ന് വിളിക്കുന്നത്  ‌

ആട്ടെ, റൂട്ട് തെറ്റിപ്പോയി 

എഴുതുമ്പോൾ വാക്കുകൾ തന്നിഷ്ടക്കാരികളാ

ഇന്ന് ഞാൻ എന്റെ 'തലയെ' സ്മരിച്ചു 

സ്മരിച്ചു സ്മരിച്ചു 

തല ചൊറിഞ്ഞു

ഓർമ്മകളിൽ ഞാൻ മധുരം തേടി 

പക്ഷെ...                                             

നിന്റെ കയ്‌പേറിയ വാക്കുകളിലും  

നീ ചുംബിച്ചപ്പോൾ മീശയിലും       

നീ ഇറങ്ങിപ്പോയപോൾ കാല്പാടുകളിലും

ശേഷിച്ചത്   

ഒരു ചൊറി മാത്രം...

മനസ്സിൽനിന്ന് ബുദ്ധിയിലേക്ക് 

ബുദ്ധിയിൽനിന്ന് പിന്നെ ശിരസ്സിലേക്ക്

ഈ ചൊറി അന്ധാളിച്ചു പാഞ്ഞു

അതിനെ  നമിക്കാൻ എന്റെ നഖങ്ങളും പാഞ്ഞു ...

അപ്പോൾ അതാ തടഞ്ഞു    

അതിന്റെ പിടക്കുന്ന കറുത്ത ശരിരം

                                                           

എന്റെ ഹൃദയത്തിന്റെ വർണ്ണപെട്ടിയിൽ  

അതിനെ  സുക്ഷിക്കുന്നില്ല 

കൊല്ലുന്നു

ട്ടക്ക്!

- ചാന്ദ്നി ഗിരിജ

എന്റെ ആദ്യത്തെ മലയാളം കവിത. 2015ൽ, എംഫിലിന്റെ ഡാറ്റാ കളക്ഷൻ കാലഘട്ടത്തിൽ ആണ്. കവിത മലയാളം ലിപിയിൽ വളരെ സ്നേഹത്തോടെ എഴുതിത്തന്ന എന്റെ അനിയത്തി, ശ്രുതിയോടു നന്ദി പറയുന്നു. പ്രൂഫ്-റീഡിങ് ചെയ്‌തുതന്നെ അമ്മയോടും. ഇന്ന് ഇതു കുറച്ചു തിരുത്തി പബ്ലിഷ് ചെയ്യുന്നു. അന്ന് ഇതു ചെയ്യാനുള്ള ധൈര്യം ഉണ്ടായിരുന്നില്ല.   

ദിവസം 12/30 | 30 ദിവസത്തിൽ 30 കവിതകൾ | ദേശീയ കവിതാ രചനാ മാസം #napowrimo  

The Elephant and the Crow

The compartment elephant struggles 
Somehow it slithers out the door frame
I rush along in its belly 
I am elbowed and sweared at
I have a Rs. 20 breakfast budget 

The stall is always dingy

The handed change is chutney-smeared

The pav is dry and the potato scalds 

And my tummy is hall full

Somehow the crow is cheerful

A smack-worthy arrogant crow on the bar

He reciprocates and hands me 

As I exit to the open road

The morning's definition on my shirt

-

Chandni Girija 

Day 08 of 30 | 30 Poems in 30 Days | National Poetry Writing Month #napowrimo

डोळस पाणी

दिवस ०७/३० । ३० दिवसात ३० कविता । राष्ट्रीय कविता लेखन महिना #napowrimo

फ़रवरी की बारिश

किसी मेंढक की तरह 
दब गया हैं मेरे शरीर के पानी में 
वह संकीर्ण किस्सा  
शरीर तो पानी हैं, पानी में 
मिश्रित हुआ नहीं अब तक 
किसी गुब्बारे की तरह 
डकारता हैं अचानक
वह संकीर्ण किस्सा
-
चांदनी गिरिजा 

दिन ०५/३० | ३० दिनों में ३० कविता | राष्ट्रीय कविता लेखन माह #napowrimo

Silken

Hugged by 
My cat's tail, my unwaxed leg
Sits still, while the afternoon 

Crawls silently

By the open window, interspersed 

Only by rustling of a page

Turning.

-

Chandni Girija

Day 03 of 30 | 30 Poems in 30 Days | Global/National Poetry Writing Month #napowrimo

Answers

My voluptuous voice shattering the glass pane

Movement of our tiny ear hairs

A ghost limb catching the falling pen 

Our dried tears

The unoccupied chair's creaking

Night's breath hanging heavy

A woman's orgasm flowing clearly

A cat suckling orphan ducklings

The rhythmic stink of the gully

-

Chandni Girija

Day 02 of 30 | 30 Poems in 30 Days | Global/National Poetry Writing Month #napowrimo

Response to Maureen's Day 02 prompt. 

Cephalopod

This time I have ditched my 

Sanitary napkin, I have braved

An alien world to be an alien in

That world, thirsting in a water world

For a bond that hitherto have dried on

Dry land, murkying my comprehension 

Of myself, my others, all others and existence.

Tell me how do you count without fingers or how 

Do you not compare the twig and your arm to understand

Length?

When two legs descended from the curtain of legs

And walked the ocean floor, how could I not engender

her, and when she reached out to touch my finger, how

Could I not fall in love with her?

-

Chandni Girija

April 01, 2023

Day 1 of 30 | 30 Poems in 30 Days | Global/National Poetry Writing Month #napowrimo 

What is comprehension? Is it always relational? How bad a sin is anthropomorphism? Why do we end up comprehending intensity in sexuality? 

Written in the daze of 'My Octopus Teacher' and reading up on its various interpretations. If you haven't watched it yet, I highly recommend it. This poem can also be read in continuation of this one in which I explore language and identity and relation, and complemented with this one in which I play with the contrasts and relation between methodologies.  

Welcome to this year's journey with me! :) 

Photo by Pawel Kalisinski procured at pexels.com 

Why Poetry

Why poetry?

Because beauty

Because mercy

Because perspectives

Because arguments

Because theory

Because philosophy

Because aesthetics

Because beauty 

Why poetry,

Why, why, why poetry?

Because children

Because animals

Because trees

Because birds

Because sea

Because rain

Because rainbows

Because beauty

Why poetry,

Why, why, why, why poetry?

Because war

Because hunger

Because disease

Because floods

Because misery

Because wailing

Because songs

Because beauty

They read today

They cried today

They related

They understood

They learnt today

They unlearned

They forgave

They smiled today

They laughed 

They danced

They angered today

They frothed 

They organised 

They petitioned today

And all of it

All and all of it

Was poetry

Oh, simply poetry!

Some called it God

Some said, "Oh goodness!"

Some just fell silent 

But blessed

Blessed, blessed, 

Blessed are those

Who know poetry

Who see poetry

See life

Life and poetry

Life through poetry

Poetry through life

Blessed, blessed, 

Blessed are those

Who pause for poetry

And mad are those

Who breathe for poetry

So if you haven't begun

Start today

Begin your riyaz

And keep at it

Once you taste 

Taste the nectar

You will want to go on

You will go on

And won't help saying,

Why,

Why, why, why,

Oh, why so much beauty, Poetry?

-

Chandni Girija

Day 30 of 30 | 30 Poems in 30 Days | National Poetry Writing Month

#napowrimo #napowrimo2022

A sincere argument for poetry from this small human. Try reading out loud, with heart. I suspect it might reach your heart. 

Signing off here. The journey of 30 days, a month, April ends here. Thanks for reading and being along. Kudos to everyone for existing, for making it through, for forging, for being! Much love and much warmth!