Words Finally Became Wings

 There are moments in an artist’s life that do not arrive with thunder, yet quietly rearrange the entire architecture of self-belief. The release of Bleeding Vermillion was one such moment—a subtle ignition that transformed hesitation into voice, and solitude into stage.

Before Bleeding Vermillion, poetry lived in an intimate, almost private chamber—written, felt, but rarely spoken aloud. The idea of standing before an audience and letting words breathe in real time felt distant, even improbable. But something shifted with this release. It wasn’t merely about putting work into the world; it was about acknowledging that the work deserved to be heard. That realization—quiet yet radical—became the turning point.

Courage, in this context, did not arrive all at once. It gathered slowly, line by line, poem by poem, until the possibility of public reading no longer felt intimidating but necessary. And almost uncannily, the moment belief took root, opportunities began to surface—as if the world had been waiting for that internal permission.

The first door opened through WhatsApp Café, where the selection by Sujoy Prosad Chatterjee for a Women’s Day poetry reading marked a profound beginning. It was more than an event—it was validation. A space where voice met audience, where written emotion found resonance in the room, and where the poet stepped fully into presence.

That moment did not remain isolated. It unfolded into another significant occasion on the 16th of April at This Must Be The Place, curated under the vision of Sujoy Prosad Chatterjee through SPCkraft. This gathering, celebrating The Farewell Poems, served as a promotional prelude to Shesher Kobita by Rabindranath Tagore—reimagined for the stage in English.

The event brought together a constellation of voices—Shubhayan Sengupta, Poulami Chattopadhyay, Solanki Roy, Anusha Vishwanathan, Debopriyo Mukherjee, among others—each contributing to an atmosphere where literature was not merely recited but lived. To be part of such a space was to recognize that poetry is not confined to pages; it is an experience, a shared emotional current.

Looking back, the journey feels almost poetic in itself. The release of Bleeding Vermillion did not just introduce a body of work—it introduced a new version of the self. One that dares to be seen, to be heard, and to stand within its own expression without apology.

And perhaps that is the real transformation: not the events that followed, but the quiet conviction that made them possible. Once belief found its voice, the world responded in kind.