Words, to me, are needle and thread, brick and window, heart and sleeve.
On a page, they are the line and curve, the dot and dash that can summon a memory to my mind, brim a world in my eyes, stir a new breeze in my body. When given voice, the right words can place the scent of an old lover back in my hands, they can strum a harp I didn’t know I had inside of me, they can move through my breath like music, like something thinner than air, something close to silence, something more than words can say.
I grew up in a city in the South of India called Bangalore. Ulsoor Lake hangs in the backdrop of most of my memories, a thick knot of mosquitoes always swaying above the water’s roll and ripple— mosquitoes my mama would swat with her dupatta as she braided my hair on our jhoola. I left home to come to the USA in 2014 and earn my BA in Creative Writing. There is something about coming into yourself in a place that is so completely foreign that is both painfully silencing and utterly freeing. In the wind of this discovery, Philadelphia opened its arms to my poetry. It listened. It pulled the rocks from my fist and laid them at my feet. Stepping stones. I built family and community. I grew. I traveled and shared my work. Over and over again, I have been astonished by the way in which these words, these sturdy vessels, these gentle hands, have carried me across my own mind and then upward, onward, into the world beyond it.
Right now, I am working on my first full length collection while getting my MFA in Poetry at Washington University in St.Louis. I spent 2018-2019 traveling the globe as a Watson Fellow, exploring storytelling as a form of healing. To me, queerness and gender fluidity is a lens of liberation. I believe we survive by the light of our stories. I believe the power of vulnerability is transcendental when we as poets can offer our own trembling voices to the webs we’ve spun, and this cements my allegiance to the art form of spoken word. We are all here together so wondrously, yet so briefly. I think we can preserve our imaginations by creating them. Thank you for leaning in, for listening, for bearing witness.
Sanam Sheriff is a queer poet and artist from Bangalore, India. She graduated from Bryn Mawr College with a BA in Creative Writing in 2018. She has received support from the Thomas J. Watson Fellowship, The Watering Hole, Pink Door, and is a Pushcart Prize Nominee. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Virginia Quarterly Review, The Academy of American Poets, The Offing, Vinyl Poetry & Prose, The Shade Journal, DW B, and elsewhere. She is currently an MFA candidate in Poetry at Washington University in St. Louis where she is a poetry editor for The Spectacle magazine. She believes poetry is the closest translation.