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Kavita Ezekiel

Kavita Ezekiel Mendonca was born and raised in a Jewish family in Mumbai. She was educated in Mumbai, with Masters’ Degrees in English and Education, from India and the U.K. Her career spanned over four decades, teaching English, French and Spanish. Her first book, Family Sunday and Other Poems was published in 1989. Her poems have appeared in various publications. Kavita is the daughter of the late poet, Nissim Ezekiel.

No Oats for the Champion

We are having oats for breakfast, but our black-and-white tuxedo cat has ordered cheese spread and toast from the à la carte menu, which has only two items on it. Oats and cheese spread and toast. His unexplained acquired taste for this
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Flying Squirrel 

Will you give me a night rideon the magic carpetof your wings? Will youallow me to see the worldfrom dizzying heightsbrush the tops of trees and mountainssavour the taste of pure rainbefore it falls to earth,tip my shoulders with the sky’s inkinessthe
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Baghera

Baghera is the word for Panther in the Garhwali language. Garhwali is a Central Pahari language belonging to the Northern Zone of Indo-Aryan languages. It is primarily spoken by over 2.5 million Garhwali people who are from the Garhwal Division of the
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Off to The Bazaar

(Episode four of my series “Once upon a Mountain Town”) Saturday was the day I most looked forward to. It was a chance to leave the school campus and venture out into the town. It was a time to visit the many
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Making a House a Home

Living in a place for a long time, one tends not to delve deep into the history of the place, taking many things for granted. The extent of my knowledge about Mussoorie at the time I first arrived in the mountain town
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A View with A Room

I have dreams about ‘writing spaces,’ but before I can turn this dream into reality, I must ask the apple tree for permission to share space with it, in the far corner of my backyard, where it stands in solitary splendor. I
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Summer of the Pigeons

Summers are magical in Calgary, the Canadian city I have called home for the past twenty-five years. The city is transformed from the harshness of long snowy cold winters to the long awaited bright sunshine that brings an abundance of
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Imperfections

I am a lover of imperfections Drawn to the rugged arches of  My backyard patio And the haphazard petunias  In the rough black window boxes. I do not crave  The neatly manicured lawn With the perfect robin Pecking at the perfect
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Spring Musings

Bird love  As I write these pieces, Spring is not quite fully in the air, but close enough. It arrives later in my city, here in Canada. The freezing nights and warm days are turning the sidewalks and back alleys into skating
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Peace At All Costs

Father’s mantra ‘Peace at all costs’ Calmed our sibling quarrels Our petty squabbles soon forgotten We resumed our play with dolls and toys. ‘Peace at all costs, he said to me Standing beside mother, facing me as I tried to win an
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