my poem, quixotic-cinnamon-orange has advanced to the semi-final rounds in a poetry competition and as usual, they always ask what inspired the poem and to tell them about myself and here’s where I draw a blank. I know what inspired the poem, that’s not hard, I was reading a certain twitter feed and flavors of the day were being discussed and cinnamon orange – doesn’t that sound cozy, like something you would want to curl up on the couch with and read a good book. I had always wanted to use quixotic in a sentence and it kind of fit with the thoughts floating around my head that day. I was trying to find the elusive magic curry kart that night as well, it seems when I want magic curry, I can’t find him. So I guess, part of the inspiration was the street food vendors and part of the inspiration was just how I was feeling that day, cozy, inspired and magical.

But who I am, why do I write poetry? that particular day, no mystery at all, I was bored with accounting, but that’s not the answer they want. Maybe who I am shall just remain a mystery, after all its inspiration in a bottle or in this case, inspiration in a twitter feed.