Small Press Intravues:
Occasional Interviews with writers
working and publishing in the small press ecosystem
Interview #21: Aakriti Kuntal is a poet, writer, and multidisciplinary artist whose creative pursuits span literature, visual arts, and experimental film. She finds inspiration in nature, often retreating into its embrace to write and reflect. In addition to poetry and prose, she explores photography, asemic writing, and short experimental films. Her work has appeared in The Night Heron Barks, Rasputin: A Poetry Thread, IceFloe Press, Cha: An Asian Literary Journal, and Poetry at Sangam, among others. Recognized for her contributions to literature, she was awarded the Reuel International Prize (2017) and shortlisted for the RL Poetry Award (2018). She is the author of the chapbook God, Am I Your Eyelid? (Sigilist Press, USA). Her debut book Night Breaks apart, like pomegranate seeds in my palm (Seagull Books), was listed in Ms. magazine's best poetry books for 2025-2026.
Michael Sikkema: What ecosystem does this book fit into? What other books, films, art, animals, etc does this book interconnect with? What works were you enjoying when you composed it? This is sort of a follow up to some of your answer to question #1. For example what classical music are you drawn to?
Aakriti Kuntal: This book is permeated by trees and trees. Trees as they swim in me, make me, and stitch me. Green as it flushes the soul, as it caresses the senses. I think the Semal and Jacaranda trees represent the book's colour imprint. The book is flashes of blue and red, blue and red running into each other, around each other, tracing each other like amoeba in a field.
Seas rush through the mouth of the book. I have always lived in cities, away from seas. There has been a constant yearning to return to the sea ever since I saw it in the small town of Pondicherry in India. The sea at night, is a black pearl blooming in the throat. It has invaded my inner being and hence dresses this book in parts.
I was especially listening to Max Richter, Philip Glass, and Vivaldi when composing poems in this book. Max Richter’s November, On the Nature of Daylight, and Sleep were played on repeat while absorbing the silvery husk of evenings. Other artists I listened to around that time are Ezzio Bosso, Nils Frahm, and Ryuichi Sakamoto.
Another element that runs through the book is the stone. The stone as a motif also occurs in Vasko Popa’s The Dream of the Quartz Pebble, Wislawa Szymborska’s Conversation with a Stone, and Zbigniew Herbert’s Pebble.
The Golden Fleece or El Vellocino de Oro by artist Wolfgang Paalen seems to me overlaps with the symbolism and threads of the book.
Among the books that were read during the process of this book and left a lasting impression on me were The Lost Lunar Baedeker: Poems of Mina Loy, Ariel by Sylvia Plath, Collected Poems by Vasko Popa, and Penguin Modern Poets 7 (Toby Martinez de las Rivas, Geoffrey Hill, Rowan Evans).
My friend suggests that The Colour of Pomegranates by Sergei Parajanov speaks in tones of the book. I also think the reminiscence is similar to that in the Mirror by Andrei Tarkovsky.
I’ve always been drawn to salamanders. They wear the shimmering orange gel sun on their backs. I think in some sense I’m always burning like them. There is conflagration in my being.
MS: Lastly, can you link us to work of yours outside the book, other poems on the web, or videos of readings or interviews? And are there other artists or movements or anything you'd like to take a second to shine some light on? If you could direct our eyes to something important right now, what would it be?
AK: Here are a few links:
Podcast feature on the Poetry Vessel:
https://youtu.be/0GwFor6IjDM?si=jB6cSFliiSKueksP
Podcast Feature on the Spoken Label:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HsKzdioDSAk
Outlook Feature:
https://www.instagram.com/reel/DTC8IyfAtcc/
A reading of Sylvia Plath’s Ariel:
https://www.instagram.com/reel/DUIfqK6E3jt/
Some Poetry:
https://stonepoetryjournal.com/aakriti-kuntal/
I am very inspired by Shringi Kumari, Sumana Roy, and Sophie Strand among others.
Many things come to mind, and among them is the art of tree hugging. It is related to India’s historic Chipko movement and the Japanese practice of Shirin-yoku. I believe just staring at a tree can soothe the many upheavals within. The pockets of air filled in the cervices, the arms extending to embrace the sky. Just imagine hugging a tree then? Or caressing a stem? Feeling the coolness stick to the skin.
Another that comes to mind is playing music to the plants. I love playing music to my plants whenever I can. Classical and jazz are harmonious for both them and us.
Michael Sikkema a poet and visual artist living as best he can in West Michigan where he works and hikes and learns how to bird by ear.
