Anwesha is a poet from Delhi whose work explores the complexity of emotions—especially those we feel but rarely understand. Writing from a place of deep sensitivity, her poems seek to articulate what often goes unsaid, offering readers a space to feel seen and understood.
Q: What first drew you to poetry as a form of expression?
I was first drawn to poetry through Instagram, surprisingly. I became captivated by Celia’s work, her writing was my introduction to what poetry could feel like when it’s both personal and accessible. She inspired me to explore it myself. it wasn’t until everything broke that poetry became the only place i didn’t. It offered a space where I could express what I didn’t know how to articulate otherwise.
I’ve always been sensitive like an open door to everything around me, and it gets heavy. Writing became the only way to carry it without sinking, a way to understand myself, or at least leave traces for someone else to understand me. I started with the basics, love, grief , the feelings that don’t need to be complicated because that’s how they arrived in me.
I still remember the first poem that truly felt like mine: monsters that smile. That was the piece that made me realize I had a voice worth sharing.
Alongside writing, I’ve developed a love for analyzing poetry too, I’m currently studying English HL in the IB program, and I find meaning in breaking apart texts, especially because my interpretations tend to differ from others. That process helps me stay anchored, while writing remains my space for emotional honesty.
Q: How do you know when a poem is finished? Or do you believe poems are ever truly finished?
I don’t believe poems are ever fully finished, they just reach a version of themselves that feels complete for now. For me, a poem feels finished when I’ve said what I needed to say, and when the ending carries the weight it’s meant to. I always try to end with the most impactful line, the one that lingers, that stays with the reader. That’s usually my marker, even if the rest of the poem went through changes, the ending needs to land with certainty.
That said, I do think a poem’s interpretation is never finished. Even if I’ve stopped writing it, the meaning keeps shifting, depending on who’s reading, or even who I’ve become when I read it again later. There are always different versions of a poem living in parallel: the version I wrote, the version someone reads, and the one that exists only in feeling. I’ve come to see that as part of the beauty of poetry that it doesn’t settle.
Q: Why do you choose to write in lowercase? Is it an aesthetic choice, or something deeper? Did some poet inspire you to write like this?
It wasn’t really a conscious choice at the beginning, it just happened, almost without me realizing. As I kept writing, I noticed that lowercase felt more natural to me, like it better matched the tone of what I was trying to express.
There’s a softness to it that I’ve grown attached to. It makes the words feel less like a command and more like an invitation. It allows the language to flow gently, almost like a thought being shared rather than pronounced.
No specific poet inspired this choice, it was purely instinct. But now, it feels intrinsic to my writing voice. capitals feel too formal, too distant. Lowercase keeps the emotion close, intimate, almost like a quiet conversation between me and the reader.
THE BOOK
Anwesha has been published in the anthology 'Hear Me First'. Curated by Delhi Poetry Slam as part of The Writer's Launchpad, an online workshop series for a select group of contemporary Indian poets. Get your copy!