I know what writers have to go through. It is not pretty. What we do is disembowel our emotions to bring to you things that you already know but still never knew. We create and capture magic that is as tender as gossamer. This is what all artists do. And at most times they are hardly acknowledged, respected or paid.

Half a decade or so ago, I came across a person. Throughout those years, I have seen this person hit rock bottom and then painfully climb from whatever hellish abyss he was in to flourish. I have seen him fall in love and then fall out of it. He is now at his zenith. He is the Head of Creative in Bates Asia (Sri Lanka).

His creative campaigns have won awards and his personality attracts clients and friends much like starved mosquitoes to red hot blood. While it may seem that I am happily ladling out copious amounts of flattery, the truth is he is not without a side that is dark and dangerous.

Do I detect a bit of Sylvia Plath is his poetry? There is just an inkling of vulnerability that borders on madness. I wonder where he has been in his head to write (on occasion) such tumultuous words. On some level, I know what he has gone through to write those poems he holds so dear. To strip naked and be vulnerable to the rest of the world takes a shitload of courage. I respect him for that.

He published his first book of poetry a few days back and is hard at work getting it into various bookstores and outlets. If and when you do read it, remember what you do see thumping between those letters and words are his emotions – reeking of pain, joy, anguish and bliss.

The words that are crafted so well belongs to Dinesh. He is the Poem Person.