top of page

THE HAIBUN GALLERY: 7th August 2025. Padma Priya - Guest Poet

Updated: 2 days ago

host: Rupa Anand

mentor: Lorraine Haig editors on haikuKATHA: Shalini Pattabiraman, Vidya Shankar, Firdaus Parvez and Kala Ramesh

Guest Poet: Padma Priya

A Thursday Feature

7th August 2025 -


THE HAIBUN GALLERY  August 2025 Padma Priya


1st week:


Journeys

Waiting for my school bus under the old raintree, Selvi is oblivious to my sticking its pink blossoms into her hair. Narrating the plot of the latest Tamizh movie she watched, complete with dialogues and the opening lines of its songs is her idea of keeping me entertained.

becoming rainbows

As she waves to me I grin at the thought of how our housemaid would pluck the brush-like flowers sticking out of her daughter's well oiled, braided jet-black hair.

one by one by one

Back home, Amma chides me for my prank and insists I apologise. Halfway to their hut, I am met by a bounding Selvi waiting to run off to the park with me.

mountain streams


Anju Kishore

haikuKATHA, Issue 23, September 2023

 

Prompt

I started writing haibun recently, and a few of them were featured in haikuKATHA. When I was asked to co-edit the page for this month, I began reading haibun by various poets, along with articles on the form. The journey of exploring, understanding, and enjoying the diverse formats, techniques, and literary devices employed by different authors was an invigorating experience for me.  


What I liked about the haibun by Anju Kishore was the way she used monoku in the haibun. The format looks fresh and crisp. The format becomes more interesting when we notice that a haiku is split into three monoku and quilted into the haibun. This format, known as braided haibun, brings a new lustre to the work.  

 

The theme in the haibun is riveting. The simplicity of language shines as it focuses on the friendship between two children — their innocence and purity. They are fine with the prank—one takes it easily, while the other apologises for playing the prank with equal ease. A simple and beautiful interaction between children. 


It made me wonder when and where that innocence is shed by people, and when ego takes root, playing bitter games in relationships.


Prompt: 1: Think of anything that fills your hearts with warmth and write about it. Cherished memories—friendship either at school, college, workplace, book clubs; or neighbours, family, people you met while travelling etc.  

Prompt 2: Write a haibun with a minimum of three monoku interspersed in it, if possible a braided haibun. Check out the following link to know more about braided haibun.

I eagerly anticipate your haibun. 

Haibun outside the prompt is welcome too.  Thank you. Padma Priya

<>

Thank you a lot Padma, for providing us with prompts for August 2025


_kala


******



IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT NOTICE

              NOTICE


Dear Haibuneers


Starting from March 2025, we at haikuKATHA are moving on to a new submissions format for haibun submissions. (Only for haibun, please note!)


Writers are invited to submit one unpublished haibun per submission window.


Kindly note the submissions calendar.


1-20 March, to be considered for publication in May

1-20 June, to be considered for publication in August

1-20 September, to be considered for publication in November

1-20 December, to be considered for publication in February


All accepted submissions will receive an email to confirm their acceptance by the 5th day of the publication month.


Your unpublished (only one) haibun should be sent to: 

The Google link will be given in this space soon. This form will open only during the submission period. 


********


The Haibun Gallery continues as is.

We will be having editors and prompts, and your sharing…


33 comentários


Rupa Anand
Rupa Anand
15 hours ago

Poem 2- 09/08/25


Old Lang Syne


We meet after fifty-five years.


i wonder who     we’ve become


He remembers the treats I treated him to. I don’t. 


our chatter cartwheels over beer and dim sums


That camaraderie of putting the first man on the moon.


schooldays spiralling into the future


Rupa Anand, New Delhi, India

feedback is welcome

is this working?

Curtir

#2

 

There and Back Again

 

The carpet is full of swirls and colours, islands waiting for exploration.  The in-between spaces are ocean. The boat is simply made with our arms rowing out across the wide expanse of the room.  Intermittently one of us places a hand in the air as a sail to change course.  We are in the shadow lands of a corner.

 

shearwaters adrift on a thermal

 

This is nighttime so we huddle closer and lean into the wind.  I tease the homemade map from my pocket and we converse over where the treasure might be found.

 

a sail pulled towards starlight

 

X always marks the spot.  We turn back toward the…

Curtir
Respondendo a

Yes, an active imagination can soon dissipate boredom.

Curtir

Alfred Booth
Alfred Booth
a day ago

#2

Until the shadows grow into darkness


A summer cold turned into congestion. In the hillside park the rest of the neighborhood vacations elsewhere. I have brought a so-far unopened book of Persian poetry. There is no need to hurry. I imagine the soft ruffle of its thick hard-bound pages.


a background hum the shade dances


The lack of laughter, unmuted conversations, dogs unleashed running against regulations, is refreshing. My thoughts run a monologue as the silence listens. Until a bit of pollen swirls my way.


achoo a sudden fluttering


But still no singsong. It is as if the Extreme Heat Warning has sent them deep into the cool of a more dense canopy. Contentment coddles me. Yet something unexpected…


Curtir
Alfred Booth
Alfred Booth
a day ago
Respondendo a

Thank you, Joanna.

The sneeze came from a while back, but the rest was this morning’s observation.

Curtir

Rupa Anand
Rupa Anand
2 days ago

In Continuance


I don’t know why I come. But I do. Perhaps, it’s the twilight hush, the shadows I share with tall trees on the walking path. 


a crow calls out


My feet find their purpose in swift strides. The old tamarind that housed barbets in its trunk is gone. In the rains the fermented scent of fallen tabebuia rises between my breaths, the birds are silent at this time except for the occasional chirp, flutter and flap! An August stillness emanates the air, seeping the soil, leaves, roots and stones. 


through dense foliage


The cricket hum is deafening as silver-striped hawk moths circumambulate lamp lights. The fruit bats are silent. The new cell tower stands high and unlit in…


Curtir
Rupa Anand
Rupa Anand
15 hours ago
Respondendo a

Joanna, thank you. Your writing inspires me very much!

Curtir

joanna ashwell
joanna ashwell
2 days ago

 Edit, thanks to Alfred:

 

#1

 

Highlights

 

I am touched by this kindness.  Her favourite colour passed for me to fill my page.

 

the way blossom dances an air kissed delight

 

My fingertips grip the plum point and I scrub dusk all over the mountain peaks.

 

starlings the way back to enchanted skies

 

A new friendship grows from a seedling.

 

window stars framing a dream

 

Joanna Ashwell

UK

 

Feedback welcome


#1


Highlights

 

I am touched by this kindness.  Her favourite colour passed for me to fill my page.

 

the way blossom dances an air kissed delight

 

My fingertips grip the plum point and I scrub dusk all over…

Editado
Curtir
Alfred Booth
Alfred Booth
a day ago
Respondendo a

Joanna,

But I did indeed get the innocence!

Curtir
bottom of page