Mango Bites

Vaakili is pleased to present Mango Bites – contemporary poetry in English.

For A Catharsis


One has to write
At least to apprehend the quietude
After a prolonged battle.
To assert that man is a tree that can blossom
One must write.
Creation is but a translation of the world…
Creation is destruction in the first place…
As one writes
Pen traces plough lines on paper
And the vivacity of life flows from fingers to the letters.
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Oceans continue to have high and low tides still
Carpenter Bees continue to hover over flowers
The sky continues to play chameleon at will
Plants still sprouting only after the seed explodes…


Darkness still puts on that ebony mantle, and for that
The glow-worms lay in wait for the whole day;
No matter how high-rise the building is,
The gentle breeze continues amusing itself with window leavesపూర్తిగా »

The Other Shore

I wished, innocently,
when my son was young and sprouting
that he should grow big like a tree
and I must rest under the cool of its shade;
where ever he may be
how ever he may be.

Me, being a man amidst the trees,
I wonder, how I could forget
that the trees won’t move and
that we only have to shelter under.

When my dreams…
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A month of snow


Into this dawn of this month of snow
That encircled as thick smog
Who has protruded out as jasmines with elongated stalks
Wearing the crinkled wings of metallic birds
Filled the streets with brightness
This is the occasion when
Today turns a routine for tomorrow
How much they reviled
For new answers

They who produce only early spring
And dream only the early spring
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The Throne
-the sun light-
slipped off from the sky
The sky laughed, as if
the crumbled mountain stood up again!
I stepped into the silent vaccum
Like a torch-bearer
The flute is singing
the forgotten tunes of the lip
I am creating every single edge of life
with the very stuff of life
I am dreaming
and filling my eyes
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The Planted Cloud


The Planted Cloud

When it rains sunshine
The tree is full of
Showers, green!

When it rains darkness
The tree is full
Dark clouds!

When there is a breeze
The tree rains
The cloud shower!


The Cosmic Form, Viswaroopam

Moon like Vamana[1]
Plants its moonlit feet
On the sky and the earth!

I offer him
My heart for the
Third foot!

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Becoming a Rain…

Eons have passed
Landscapes have changed
But the nascent smell of the rain
Sinking into the earth has not changed.

How many feelings
Shall it spray
Springing back to life
Memories from the depths of heart!

For once
I long to turn into a cloudlet
And roll over in the dust…


Original: (Telugu) Kondamudi Saikiran Kumar
Translation: Nauduri Murthy

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At daybreak


At daybreak every day
I shall turn myself into a verdant banyan;
To witness a half-baked dawn
Still drenched in ocean vapors taken in bit by bit,
And smeared in dust rubbed off from a dream world
Secreting as nectar flowing in an eternal brook.

In the bush, the baby cuckoos
At their peek-a-boos,
Look as if they were crescent’s darker offspring;
Compete they with one anotherపూర్తిగా »

Winged Storm


We attempted composing tunes for
buzz of the black bee
dance of dragon fly
sweeping winds of storm
shattering noise of guns.

Wincing with pain
on stepping sharp edge
we wanted to set choreography
for the writhing foot.
We tried to cover silk cloth
on thorny branch that pierced eyeballs.
We tried to unfold secrets
secure behind blood stained skin.

Did we think of…
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A pining
for not having drowned like a paper boat
when you were impregnably brimming over the banks;
For having failed to play like a pearl of water
on the sickle of your waist
when the first signs of youth blossomed over there;
For not sharing a piece of firmament
standing at the threshold of your teary looks

You are now an…
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