Dear Reader,

“I forget poetry, but it doesn’t forget me,” says Raju Tai.

Speaking with 34-year-old poet Raju Tai, I realise I forget poetry too. When was the last time you let a poem find you?

April - National Poetry Month - is an ideal time to return. And Raju Tai, a 34-year-old creativity coach with work featured in Muse India, Wales Haiku Journal, Gulmohar Quarterly, Scroll, and Memoirland, is a lyrical guide.

Beneath this Pune-based poet’s bubbly warmth, burns a revolutionary’s heart, as she uses ‘words to disobey the world’, and finds healing in romance novels. Here are edited excerpts from our conversation:

When did you know you were a poet?

Poetry rushed into my baby ears: Marathi songs, English rhymes. I heard Gulzar’s Dil Hoom Hoom Kare as Dil Boom Boom Kare. Religious verses, school prayers—lyrics folded like prayers in cassette covers.

In 7th grade, I wrote my first poem—on cats. My English teacher didn’t believe someone like me could write a poem. My second poem at school got a standing ovation. The air shifted that day. The sound of clapping sealed it in my mind: I, dull and average, could move words to move people.

You have an on-off relationship with reading.

Every time I pick up a book after a long time, I can’t believe I was avoiding it. It feels a bit like this:

Me: Who has the time to read books?

Also me: One page in and holy shit, my worldview has changed. Thank God for books—why the hell was I avoiding them? They stretch time, smell lovely, AND put me to sleep. What is this ancient magic?

I grew up in Nagpur. We didn’t have many bookstores. I’ve never seen my parents read a book cover to cover. But I’ve always seen them invest in books, browse through them at........

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