What a difference a pinch of tea-leaf makes
Twinkling on the surface of the water,
Bronzing it, burnishing it, turning it gold.
And in the cup, a lake of such enchantment:
Merry at the edges, brimful with laughter,
Wearing its meniscus like a crown.
Go on, Drink it: There is nothing after this
But a bitterness in the mouth.
And in the cup, Some say, the pattern of your life is drawn
If you have the nerve to turn it upside down.

Published with permission from “These Were My Homes”, Speaking Tiger Books.

This selection is curated by Yamini Krishnan.