# Moon in My Teacup

- Link: https://writersworkshopindia.com/2019/03/04/moon-in-my-teacup/
- Published: 2019-03-04T21:47:05+00:00
- Author: shuktara

5/5 - (1 vote)

**Author:** Basudhara Roy[⌊A sample cover of the book: navy blue coloured handloom sari with gold embossed nameplate and lettering for the title and author's name. The border of the sari lines the right hand margin of the cover.⌉](https://writersworkshopindia.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/03/Moon-in-My-Teacup-rotated-e1584976630975.jpg)
**
Pages:** 92 **Year of Publication:** 2019 **Price:** Rs 300 **ISBN:** 978-93-5045-
189-2 (9789350451892)

_**About the Author**_
 Born in 1986, Basudhara Roy has been teaching English for
the last eight years as Assistant Professor in Karim City College, Jamshedpur, Jharkhand.
A student of St. Xavier’s School, Bokaro Steel City, and later, an alumnus and gold
medallist of Banaras Hindu University (2009), Basudhara was awarded the UGC Junior
Research Fellowship and has earned her doctoral degree from Kolhan University, Chaibasa,
for her work on the exploration of cultural space in the short fiction of Bharati
Mukherjee, Chitra Banerjee, and Jhumpa Lahiri. Her poems, articles, short stories
and research papers have appeared in several journals within the country. This is
her first collection of poems. Fond of books, plants, music, and good conversation,
Basudhara lives in Jamshedpur with her husband and two little sons.

_**Teaser**_

_Taking the Cue_

I take my cue of love
 from commercial advertisements, furtively-read women’s magazines,
and the husky Bollywood songs of my adolescence.

The senses are schooled to respond
 to the rise and fall of quivering glances, to
the gradual inching together of expectant bodies, to the vibrant play of fingertips
on palpably throbbing flesh.

I long for the astounding riot of colours –
 red, orange, yellow, gold – the kaleidoscope
bursting open, raining its ostentatious patterns in dappled waves of virgin silk,
on senses already smoking like camphor on flame.

The night becomes a young damsel waiting to be fulfilled.
 Her luxuriant darkness
becomes the mattress of my longing. My dutifully-knotted morning hair urges the 
reciprocity of desire to be set free in wild tresses of self-conscious abandonment.

You only turn upon your back and sleep.
 Perhaps you take your cue from a different
source.

A review of the book can be read [here](https://epaper.thestatesman.com/m5/2599503/8th-Day/22ND-MARCH-2020#dual/2/1).

_**Contents**_
 52 poems