Poetry

Auroville Today: What was your childhood like, how did your own musical journey begin? Shalini: My journey with music began very young. Singing was always central to my life, but never through formal education.

Dominique Jacques posed questions and changed the rules in her recent exhibition ‘Endless Game’. We’re used to visiting a gallery to see an art work with a little caption and then we are left to appraise it.

When I first saw the tree, I saw a Mother and her many children. Branches reaching out to all directions. Outward, skyward, earthward. The tree had roots that were branches and branches that were rooted.

At a time of constant communal agitation, a little jewel of an evening slipped through and gave viewers an inspired taste of Sri Aurobindo’s creative offering.

Shraddhavan, the executive of Savitri Bhavan, left her body on July 19th, 2022, aged 80 years.

Since joining Auroville in 2016, Anandi Zhang has taken up various work in the community. But she feels the most important work is that which she is dong upon herself.

Transparency is an elusive concept. At the borderland between here and beyond, between substance and transcendence, it’s a particularly interesting concept for artists to explore.

Home birth is rather common and very accessible here in Auroville, and I was one of those lucky children to evacuate my warm private cocoon straight into what would be my home for my first 19 years.

Some years ago, Vikas (Alan Vickers), one of the pioneer Aurovilians, brought out a slim anthology of Auroville poetry called 50 poems from Auroville.

Despite the restrictions of quarantine, an innerly creative world was quietly emerging during the lockdown. For some Aurovilians, the halting of everyday busyness allowed their muse to take flight and for creativity to take form.

My name is Malcolm, I am an internationally acclaimed poet and author living in Auroville since 2017.

I am Manya Sekar, 12 years old and i like reading, writing and music.

‘It has been said that man is made up of blood and cells. But in truth he is like a tree’s foliage. Not compressed into a solid block, but composed of scattered images like leaves upon the branches, through which the wind must blow so as to make them sing.’

Born in Yugoslavia, raised in Croatia, I went to University in Italy. One day the pull and push and call was so strong that I embarked to a journey: Auroville - Integral Yoga.

Born and brought up in the international context of Auroville, I teach English, I am a freelance photographer and content writer, massage therapist in the becoming, and am dedicated to all things community related.

The post hails from the cozy north-eastern town of Shillong in the state of Meghakaya. The inspiration for the writings comes from my personal journey through this labyrinth that we call life.

Stereotypes play an important role in daily suffering. Especially when you belong to a minority. The majority can easily fall into humiliation games towards the minority, which can lead to depression or worse.

Meenakshi, our acclaimed Tamil poet, has just brought out a bi-lingual collection of her poetry to coincide with Auroville’s 50th birthday. Pebble contains one or two poems that have been anthologised elsewhere – like the lovely “I am the golden flame” – but many are new, at least to this reviewer.

The occasion was celebrated with song, dance and poetry from around Europe

In September 2017, the Chinese Ambassador to India Mr. Luo Zhaohui visited Auroville and the Sri Aurobindo Ashram. Addressing a gathering at the 68th anniversary celebrations of the People’s Republic of China at New Delhi soon after his visits, Ambassador Zhaohui remembered Hu Hsu.

Vikas Vickers of AVI UK has selected 50 poems by 21 poets as a gift and tribute to Auroville on its 50th birthday. This collection is the only the second collection of Auroville poetry, and the first in over 30 years.

Roger Harris was a founding member of Auroville Today and for many years attended its weekly meetings. It was an interesting experience for all of us.

“There is nothing which gives you a joy equal to that of gratitude. One hears a bird sing, sees a lovely flower, looks at a little child, observes an act of generosity, reads a beautiful sentence, looks at the setting sun, no matter what, suddenly this comes upon you, this kind of emotion – indeed so deep, so intense – that the world manifests the Divine, that there is something behind the world which is the Divine.”

Hamish Boyd’s poetry is by turns witty, enigmatic, profound, joyful, funny, anguished, angry and moving, mirroring, perhaps, the many elements of his nature.

Aren’t we an economy Of butterflies and bees? A colourful autonomy Is what fate for each decrees. Butterflies sip precious nectar And enjoy it on the spot

The flocks of birds from the North Fly away to the tip of the South. The sky in October is hesitating to rain. At that moment, that particular moment,

City of peace and god’s unguarded light. City of silence and the rich unfolding word, City of love and a laughter of the Gods, City of man his labour born of dream.

The wonder of this country is Return: Always, it seems, The same sun, Winking off leaves and mud, The same boys, Splay-toed, Chanting after dusty cows.

I dream’d in a dream I saw a city invincible to the attacks of the whole of the rest of the earth, I dream’d that was the new city of Friends,