# A Symphony of Temple Bells

- Link: https://writersworkshopindia.com/2017/05/25/a-symphony-of-temple-bells/
- Published: 2017-05-25T02:31:10+00:00
- Author: shuktara

4.2/5 - (4 votes)

**Author:** Satya Palaparty[](https://writersworkshopindia.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/05/WP_20170522_16_37_47_Pro-1.jpg)
**
Pages:** 60 **Year of Publication:** 2017 **Price:** Rs 150 / $10 **ISBN: **978-
93-5045-151-9 (9789350451519)

_**About the Author**_
 Satya Palaparty writes poetry and stories of her memories
of India and also of her cross-cultural experiences as an immigrant living in the
United States. Two of her poems have been part of performing arts projects: “Freedom”
was featured in The Spilling Ink Project’s _Godavari: Who Am I?_ — a classical Indian
dance, music and theatre performance and “Dancing with Shiva on the Ganga”, which
was choreographed and performed by students in Seton Hill University’s theatre and
dance programme, a performance that also combined poetry, music, classical Indian
dance forms, along with modern dance forms. Palaparty has taught a range of English
composition courses at colleges and universities in northeast Ohio. Her poems have
been published in _Akros Review, Borders and Senses, North Coast Review_ and _YACK_.
She is also the founder and editor of _ekakshara_, a literary and visual arts journal.
She holds a Master of Arts in English Literature from Sri Venkateswara University,
India, a Master of Arts in Creative Writing from Cleveland State University, and
a Master of Fine Arts in Creative Writing with a concentration in poetry from the
NEOMFA programme, a consortium of four universities in northeast Ohio, USA. Her 
website is [http://www.satyapalaparty.com](http://www.satyapalaparty.com).

_**Teaser**_

_You Do Not Belong Here

_500 Million Girls Killed_

My light body swam in your large ocean
 where I learned and imitated your curves.

I heard all the seasons of your voice
 from your womb.

I lapped up your bliss
 and eagerly waited to fill your hands.

I dreamed of having long brown hair
 braided like a wheat branch.

But your hands plucked the wheat grains
 still in the husk

to feed me until I am full
 and still.

In the land of lotuses and goddess temples,
 and goddess mantras on every lip,

dandelions live longer than a day.
 A lazy lizard’s tail lies lashing, as if alive.

Tortoises have fire for centuries,
 and the little dung beetle licks its lips.

A gnat sat on my nose and I saw
 the peace sign between its wings

as I closed my eyes.

_**Contents**_
 36 poems