Kamala Das

(31 March 1934 – 31 May 2009 / Punnayurkulam, Thrissur District in Kerala)

Kamala Das Poems

1. The Testing Of The Sirens 3/28/2012
2. The Stone Age 3/28/2012
3. Annette 3/28/2012
4. The Maggots 3/28/2012
5. Krishna 3/28/2012
6. The Sunshine Cat 3/28/2012
7. The Dance Of The Eunuchs 3/28/2012
8. Forest Fire 3/28/2012
9. The Freaks 3/28/2012
10. The Rain 3/28/2012
11. The Suicide 3/28/2012
12. Love 3/28/2012
13. Relationship 3/28/2012
14. A Losing Battle 3/28/2012
15. Winter 3/28/2012
16. Punishment In Kindergarten 3/28/2012
17. Summer In Calcutta 3/28/2012
18. The Old Playhouse 3/28/2012
19. In Love 3/28/2012
20. Words 3/28/2012
21. The Looking Glass 3/28/2012
22. My Grandmother's House 3/28/2012
23. An Introduction 3/28/2012

Comments about Kamala Das

  • anto k.m. (3/18/2018 7:00:00 AM)

    please upload the poem middle age

    3 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
  • Anjalisharma (2/19/2018 11:25:00 AM)

    Pls upload the wild bougnvilla poem by kamla das.......

  • Muhammed Sakkir (2/5/2018 11:08:00 PM)

    Did you know the poem “flog“ written by kamaladas

  • biswaranjan swain (2/1/2018 12:18:00 AM)

    super poet mam thank u for this poem

  • Reha Arax (1/1/2018 3:32:00 AM)

    By the way, hysteria has been ruled out as a formally diagnosable disorder; it was a creation of ancient, misogynistic, unscientific psychology. Also, Freud has been always criticized for his biased judgement to women; he was yet another misogynist who saw men as the ideal. (Scientifically respected psychology don't discriminate and also, the find proper data to support their studies. Freud considered cases such that they justified his theories) . Fin. :)

  • Reha Arax (1/1/2018 3:30:00 AM)

    Some men are simply TERRIFIED of women taking ownership of their own body, because, if so, these men can not hold the power of owning these women anymore.

  • Reha Arax (1/1/2018 3:29:00 AM)

    Dear Bijay Kant Dubey. It's a shame you can't see these poems with an open mind. But I really don't blame you. Suppression of female sexuality is not a new thing in our patriarchal society, is it? People can happily read a man vulgarly describing a woman's body. But the moment a women talks about her own body... Oh! What a whore! She has loose morals! What a disgrace!

  • krishna (11/29/2017 9:40:00 AM)

    please do add dis poem too, the wild bougainvillea poem

  • Bijay Kant Dubey Bijay Kant Dubey (5/10/2014 11:25:00 AM)

    Her re-marriage was a drama and is a study in rampant sexuality. A scholar can never do it. How can a younger brat marry an older woman? We do not agree with on this point. Had Freud, Jung, Adler and James C. Coleman been alive, they would have definitely called her hysteric, neurotic and abnormal. A general woman cannot do it all. To do politics for poetry; for getting name and fame is not at all healthy and good. Is there nothing barring love and sex? Where this sexuality lead to ultimately? Man is not an animal, but a rational animal too. We cannot accept what Kamala says it all. Kamala should have consulted a psychiatrist as for her mental cure. Is sex all? A dog's life cannot be that of man's life. There i something to think; something to comprehend. Her abnormality, must come to an end. Sexual talks will continue to relish us as chutney or spiced junk foods or mouth freshner. Kamala should re-think her words before she says them.

  • Bijay Kant Dubey Bijay Kant Dubey (5/10/2014 10:27:00 AM)

    The critics generally admire as for her franker treatment of love and sex, bold presentation and the confessional statements given, but on the reverse she transgresses into rampant sexuality and the butt of publicity and joke. There is nothing new as that she has written. Most of the writers have already as for gaining cheap popularity and Kamala is no exception to that. As for to be a feminist she can even rebuke, scold and insult her husband allegedly calling him one of a loose character. Something of a tomboy is in her. She likes to dress as March of The Fox novella of D.H.Lawrence. Love and sex, give and take, attraction and repulsion, attachment and detachment are thing of her consciousness. Magnetic love full of sensation and thrill is the thing of her poetry and above all, sex satisfaction burning her into flaming flames. She also loves to watch eunuch-dancing as for poetry’s sake. Kamala Das as a poetess is very, very sexual, bodily and sensual and barring sex and lover there is nothing as that to tone up metaphysically, spiritually. It was utter foolishness to submit so many dissertations on Kamala's poetry rather than other neglected and sidetracked Indian English poets. She appears to be a nervous girl; an abnormal babbling by, a drugged hippie girl. A gipsy woman's gipsy living is therein in her. People praise Pt. Ravishankar, but the treatment meted out to Annapurnadevi does not show him in a good light. Kamala here has crossed the lakshmanrekha. We generally like to hear her, not the quite humble husband and she goes lodging complaint after complaint.

Best Poem of Kamala Das

An Introduction

I don't know politics but I know the names
Of those in power, and can repeat them like
Days of week, or names of months, beginning with Nehru.
I amIndian, very brown, born inMalabar,
I speak three languages, write in
Two, dream in one.
Don't write in English, they said, English is
Not your mother-tongue. Why not leave
Me alone, critics, friends, visiting cousins,
Every one of you? Why not let me speak in
Any language I like? The language I speak,
Becomes mine, its distortions, its queernesses
All mine, mine alone.
It is half English, halfIndian, funny ...

Read the full of An Introduction

The Stone Age

Fond husband, ancient settler in the mind,
Old fat spider, weaving webs of bewilderment,
Be kind. You turn me into a bird of stone, a granite
Dove, you build round me a shabby room,
And stroke my pitted face absent-mindedly while
You read. With loud talk you bruise my pre-morning sleep,
You stick a finger into my dreaming eye. And
Yet, on daydreams, strong men cast their shadows, they sink
Like white suns in the swell of my Dravidian blood,

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