Unlearning
written by: Anjana Vipin
For once,
I let the syllables drip
from my fingertips
like rice flour batter,
settling
into a kolam,
perhaps the same half-remembered pattern
grandmothers drew
with quivering hands,
or nieces who didn’t bother
to wash away
the stray drops,
or gray-haired aunts
who could never make
all five petals curve alike—
words that knew
the smell of sweat I wiped
with the back of my hand
from my forehead,
and the illegible cursives
made by my damp hair
on a cotton blouse,
words coaxed from thresholds
like batter drops caught
on the top rim
of the steel pan,
a poem in rice flour carried
into a roadside gutter
by summer rain.
Latest posts by Anjana Vipin (see all)
- Unlearning - August 11, 2026
- Mornings Dipped in Rice Flour Batter - May 26, 2026



