Hi, readers!  In these poetry spotlights today and in the future, we will be showcasing poetry by some very talented poets.  These poets have graced us with their presence.  

With us today is poet and author Malay A. Upadhyay. 
Here is a little taste of his poetry.

The Tofa theory

And who did live in the very beginning
when there was nothing at all?
Only a first flying duck,
one that flew along.
Settled down for the night,
it laid an egg that broke.
The liquid then formed a lake,
and earth from an emptied cloak.

- Beliefs of the Tofa, somewhere in Siberia.

- Chapter 3, Kalki Evian - The Ring of Khaoriphea

Sparrows of the Night

The last string speaks ere the last trail of night
Not in its bloom, but in obscurity it shows..
A hint, perhaps that to tease the bold.
For it will dawn after dawn, dawn once the climax is culminated
Once the race is over.. in little but a realization.
And sweet sparrows that sing now would seem distant on those trees..
Distanced not by the distance, but our heart
For, it’s when we let go and learn that we truly hear how they sang
All through that dark night,
All through our beliefs that they were but a mirage.
Led by what we understood through the day,
Of what we learnt last night.. And thereby misleading in disguise,
As we forgot that lessons have changed.
A new theory... a new song.. A novel sweetness we don’t see.
The sparrows sang through the night.. Calling us to their shadows,
But we fled, sped and soared..
The sparrows that they were, now with a bruised heart..
They sing in distant trees.. Distanced by our heart!

Length of a smile

How long has it been?
How long has it really been...
Since words flew in a cacophonic encounter
Not on purpose of any measure or intent
Except one made of feathers – rosy and soft
That softness that creased itself and glowed
The rosiness accentuated to behold.
The mind could not adjudge its words
If it did, it would see how the feathers were lips.
If it did, it would hear the swish of their curls,
That would challenge those perfect locks of black
That lay in a shell of mystic night
The night that cocooned her fair smooth skin
The fairness that would be challenged by her radiant smile
The radiance that would be challenged by her shining eyes
The shine that would dare the love incurred
The love that chose to stay unheard
For, how long has it been since it expressed in words...
How long has it been since that smile unfurled?

Evening sunrise

It stands as an evening of decisive closure
At first sight, that is how it stands.
A doubt blinks slowly somewhere in the distant within
Obscured under that first sight of its dare,
Lies the evening of decisive closure:
A closure bid out to those warm arms of independence,
Of solace, of thoughts uninterrupted, of dreams, of being... and of escape.
And yet, the evening is not unlike one of beauty, one of smiles.
Adorned so it does stand, bestowing the fickle feathers of doubt
Soon to fly and blow away without a trace
Until held down upon by a tragic weight.
But I hope to let it fly, to fly far out and away
For, the evening deserves to smile, wide and unbound.
As it already does with a subtle imposition
It stands also as that decisive evening
If I so choose to let it be, or does fate one cannot say.
And that is when a heartbeat stabs through
That gateway to a familiar obstinacy –
of propositions, more dreams, possibilities –
And thoughts that have not graced me within for a long time now.
What lies beyond is a world not heard or sought of late
Not so by men, always so elusive of our fatal dance.
And as I turn now, to look at this time in the eye,
Step forth with defiance on blind faith, on unexplored logic, on uncertainty.

It is when I feel it rise:
Hope stretching out to hold my hand...
destined to dive in common faith
As if so naive to losses and ruins
Asking me to try, to let it happen, and to see...
And so I nod, hoping, seeking, letting it fly
In this evening of a decisive take off –
Like the slowest dropping of eyelids
to all that’s beside and behind;
With arms that stretch out in tandem,
Stabbing into those sides,
though simultaneously and suddenly so disconnected
Waiting to fly, helping to fly.
That is how, when and why the body leaps.
And for the seconds that would follow,
I so know –
That it would feel both like a flight and dive
With lines obscured as to whether I’ll go
a little further above or fall into inevitability
And we shall see – for what appears to be
my rare unrisk to the world, but
It is yet another risk that I have rendered myself to,
Given in, to decisions, to closure, to closeness
Whether the beauty matches this evening
We shall see, we shall see.

Poet Bio

Malay A. Upadhyay grew up in the Eastern provinces of paradoxical India. Life in the industrial town of Jamshedpur was a quiet affair dotted with crossing social stereotypes at every step. After school, he shifted to Southern India to follow an almost preset career route of the generation - engineering. The shift saw his engagements evolve with it. Out went the Himlayan trips and backstage love affair, making way for managerial inclinations and well, love. It is also sometime during this phase that tragedy occurred as Cupid managed to conjure a pen-shaped arrow. He aimed it well.   

Malay's time at Bocconi University saw the inevitable extra-curricular engagements keep pace. He was one of 25 individuals selected globally to envisage the future of workplaces for the Board at Marzotto SpA. It shaped the dissertation that saw him undergo a frantic episode of multitasking routine virtually as a secluded robot in the winter of 2012-13. The decision to extend the work as fiction novel was its fallout. A brief stint with a consultancy followed in Dubai before he returned India to join his uncle in their entrepreneurial venture in hospitality, and to follow his authorial inclination. By the end of the second year, the book was ready to come out.

The story of Kalki Evian is inspired as much by legend and characters in real life as the places Malay has travelled to over the years. All three, in his opinion, hold a mystery - a story - worthy of narration. Malay blogs at www.kalkievian.com as a Fly - a concept of humility that aims at the elusively effervescent, ephemeral connection among beings across space and time. That is after all, a belief that underlies every piece of literature ever written.


Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/malayupadhyay




  1. That'd be a first for me in a poetic role! Thanks, Marie, for a wonderful blog!

    1. Thanks! It was fun. Those were great poems. :)


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