a conversation with

Shefali Banerji

“…poetry is the gateway to feel something for me! To feel something, anything, to be forced into feelings. That’s how it is important to me - it compels me to feel like no other literary medium.”

Shefali Banerji (they/them) is a poet-performer from Kolkata, India, now based in Vienna, Austria. Shefali is currently a PhD researcher with the “Poetry Off the Page” project at the University of Vienna, working on the intersections of poetry performance and theatre. Their poetry can be found in Poetry Wales, The Bombay Review, and elsewhere. They have performed their work at National Poetry Festival Kolkata, Vienna Literature Festival, among others. 

Their poem “Blood-thin light, this night” appeared in the very first issue of Kitchen Table Quarterly, published in December 2021.

*some of the following responses have been slightly edited for clarity.


KTQ: We are a history focused journal, so we’d love to start off with a bit about your history. Can you tell us about your background?

SB: I’m a poet, performer, and researcher from Kolkata, India. I am currently based in Vienna, working on the ERC project “Poetry Off the Page,” and undertaking a PhD on British poetry performance. However, since the poem that was published in the magazine dealt with the theme of Partition of India, I think it’s important to contextualize it. My mother’s side of the family comes from East Bengal and moved to West Bengal at the onset of the partition, and so the piece was informed by some of that history that has been passed down to us over generations.

KTQ: What brought you to Vienna?

SB: A doctoral degree! When I got the offer for a PhD position with the Poetry Off the Page project, I arrived here! I had been performing poetry back home, so of course the topic was close to heart. Getting the opportunity to study it, to research it up-close, came as a gift of an opportunity.

KTQ: It's interesting that you're studying poetry performance! To you, how does the experience differ between reading a poem from the page and seeing a poem performed? 

SB: I think the experience is vastly different. With poetry readings, the norm is to usually read in a neutral, even-paced, quiet voice, as if reading to oneself (not always!). At least that is what my experience has been. Poetry performance, however, is all about emotions! Putting feelings to your words, embodying your words through gestures and more, performing those words (not always!). There’s so much potential in poetry performance - you can do so much with it, merge it with different art forms, play with the sound of words, play with your voice, so many ways you can “perform” poetry! And I love it all! I mean, both experiences are beautiful. But I prefer the performance of poetry more than a reading of it.

KTQ: So with all that in mind, let’s get into process. How does a poem begin for you?

SB: Well, I’d say my process is very chaotic! To clarify, a poem either begins with an idea for me, where I know the theme I wish to explore but don’t already have the shape of, or it begins with very concrete lines that emerge in my head, and then I have to figure out where I want to go with them, what the theme would be. It’s quite amusing– when I usually have an idea in my head, I sometimes struggle to find the right words, and when I have the right words, I sometimes struggle to give them direction. As I said, it begins with chaos and I think that works quite well for me!

KTQ: Some poets edit and edit and edit, some write everything down at once and never touch a word. What is the process of revision like for you? How much is a poem an organic occurrence and how much of the writing actually happens in editing?

SB: Again, it varies between works. Usually when a piece is fresh, I leave it alone for a while and revisit it after a few weeks to edit. I tend to edit work once or twice and that usually is a brutal process, cutting down any line, word, article, that has no business being there. However, sometimes, there’s a poem that you have no heart to edit. I have quite a few that I refuse to edit even though years have passed since I wrote them. I’d say 70% of the poem is an organic occurrence. I have rarely changed the core of a poem during the editing process – the editing mostly tends to be about structure and formatting. I love playing with the format of words of a page (and also on the stage!).

KTQ: Unlike most other literary mediums, poetry isn’t just about the words, it’s about form. What do you think the role of form is in poetry? How do you choose what form a poem will take?

SB: I think form is really really really important. As you said, form is what distinguishes poetry from other mediums. I believe how you structure a poem, the form you give it, can significantly create or transform the meaning of a poem. A caesura, a break, the white space of the page – these are such vital tools. Where you decide to end the line on a page, where you decide the poem ends, where you want the page to turn, what the visual aesthetic of your poem is, it all decides what story your poem tells. And I – as I said earlier, I love playing with form. I hate writing poems in linear lines with line breaks and stanza breaks and all that. I won’t do it for any of my work if I can help it. The page is such a beautiful playground.

As for which form I choose, I think when the idea of a poem emerges, it already informs me what form it will take. The form is always tied to the meaning and the message. And as vain as it might sound, the form really chooses itself!

KTQ: Blood thin light, this night, the poem in our inaugural issue, takes a very beautiful, almost floral, shape. You mentioned this piece was inspired by the partition of India. Was there a particular image you were meaning to invoke with this form? Or rather, why do you feel this poem chose this form? 

SB: Fascinating that you see a floral shape, I love it! Initially when I was writing the poem, I was aiming for a “diya” or a lamp you light during Diwali, given the title, but halfway through the poem, around the line about jasmines, the poem took that floral shape. I didn’t consciously choose it. The shape just emerged and I didn’t question it. I’d say the poem really decided the form it wanted to take after that floral reference. It is so interesting how a poem comes to be, isn’t it? Even that reference itself, I knew that jasmine is the national flower of Pakistan. And the official flower of the state of Bengal is the night-blooming jasmine (after which I’ve been named). Which made me wonder can borders truly divide us? Divide nature, the flora and fauna? Divide and segregate everything (or anything) with a neat line?

KTQ: Do you have any themes that you find yourself returning to again and again?

SB: Earlier in my work, I used to write abstract stuff. But lately, it’s become more personal. The question of identity, belonging, mental health and the inner world is something that keeps reappearing in my work. I think immigrating to a different country, away from family and home, is particularly responsible for my revisiting of the first two themes again and again. Though now that I think back on it, I’ve always questioned the idea of home.

KTQ: Every writer deals with things like writer’s block or rejection at some point. It’s just the unpleasant truth of being creative and putting your creativity out there. Have you experienced these things? Do you have any tools or advice for when these aspects of being a writer come up?

SB: Of course! I’ve become pals with writer’s block and rejection. As much as I love to hate them, they won’t leave me alone! I do not have any tools as such, but I’ve stopped taking rejections personally. I think that’s all I do. As for writer’s block, if you have any advice for me, please let me know, because at the moment, I desperately need it!

KTQ: Not as a writer, but as a reader, what is the importance of poetry to you? What connects you to a poem?

SB: I’ll answer the second part first: The way a poem plays with the space of a page! I think what draws me to a poem is a) how you play with the words, and b) how you play with the form.

I am a sucker for metaphors, and more for eccentric metaphors. It is such a beautiful window into a poet’s mind. So what connects me to a poem is imagery, form, metaphor, and then of course the theme. 

Now, the first part! As a reader, poetry is the gateway to feel something for me! To feel something, anything, to be forced into feelings. That’s how it is important to me - it compels me to feel like no other literary medium.

KTQ: And finally, what are the seven books in your personal poetry canon?

SB: Ooooh, this is so fun. But limiting to seven is really something I cannot do. I’ll try though!

1. Night Sky with Exit Wounds – Ocean Vuong
2. O – Zeina Hashem Beck
3. After Death Comes Water – Joy Goswami (Translated from Bengali by Sampurna Chattarji)
4. The Moon That Turns You Back – Hala Ayan
5. Heritage Aesthetics – Anthony Anaxagoru
6. Postcolonial Love Poems – Natalie Diaz
7. The Colossus and Other Poems – Sylvia Plath