Preeti Vangani is an Indian poet, writer and educator. Born and raised in Mumbai, she is the author of Mother Tongue Apologize (RLFPA Editions). Her poetry has been published in Gulf Coast, Hobart, Threepenny Review, among other journals. Her essays have been published in Buzzfeed India, The Ladies Finger, Huffington Post, among other places. Her debut short story, Work Wives, was awarded the 2022 PEN America/Robert J. Dau Prize. She is the Poetry Editor for Glass and has worked as a Poet Mentor with Youth Speaks. She has read her work at several Bay Area events including Litquake, Writers with Drinks, The Racket, and Babylon Salon. Her work has been supported by residencies and fellowships from Ucross, Djerassi, Tin House, PEN America and CCI. She holds an MFA (Writing) from University of San Francisco and currently teaches in the program. Source
One Cup of Chai
If I had known that the cup of chai
my mother asked me, a drifter
in the kitchen, to make her
that afternoon, which I
having blended water and milk
in such strange ratios
that when reduced and strained
the tea came up
to barely one trisection of my pinkie
(that cup was the driest well I saw,
the lowest tide) so to cover my blunder
I poured raw tap water to flood her cup
and fled her room before she could
collect her body, bring lip to saucer,
had I known that the pale, putrid mess
I presented, was after all, the only and
last cup of tea I’d ever make her
would I have suddenly been
granted the culinary wisdom to brew
instead the pot with sprigs of lemongrass,
a pod of cardamom, perhaps even
a prestigious thread of saffron
that I’d sneak from the silver hexagonal box
she kept hidden behind the airtight jars
of pricey nuts, and bring her
a creamy drink of complex caffeine, even
make some magnanimous promise
of offering her tea on tap till she lived
but knowing me, I know I’d have just
continued being the spectacular failure I was
that day, [ ]-talking my every inability
out of her sight, embarrassed by failure,
afraid of consequence and knowing her,
she would have creased her nose
at first, then continued to descend
on the plate with the hopeful pull
of her slurp, stubborn as she was,
not willing to peg one finite judgement
of adulation or derision—
on the cup she was served
Published:
2024
Length:
Regular
Literary Movements:
Contemporary
Anthology Years:
2025
Themes:
Death & Loss
Family
Food
Intersectionality & Culture
Womanhood
Literary Devices:
Alliteration
the repetition of the same letter or sound at the beginning of words appearing in succession
Enjambment
a line break interrupting the middle of a phrase which continues on to the next line
Interrupted Clause
a word group (a statement, question, or exclamation) that interrupts the flow of a sentence and is usually set off by commas, dashes, or parentheses
Metaphor
a comparison between two unrelated things through a shared characteristic