The Silver Wolf Within: On Poetry, Intuition and the Search for the Self with Bindiya Bedi Charan Noronha

Recently, I had the chance to speak with author, polyglot and poet Bindiya Bedi Charan Noronha following the release of her latest book, Riding with the Silver Wolf. Over the course of two hours, our conversation wandered through the journey of the Silver Wolf, questions of faith, and the silences that often sit quietly between words.

Accompanied by evocative and documentary style photographs, the book features photographs captured by Komal Bedi Sohal, making the book a multi-layered, sensory experience. There are books you read for answers, and then there are books that gently insist you ask better questions. Riding with the Silver Wolf belongs to the latter. Moving between cities, memories, and moments of quiet introspection, the collection invites readers into a landscape where instinct speaks as loudly as intellect. In an age of constant information and restless pace, the book pauses to pose searching questions about identity, authenticity, responsibility, and the inner voice we often learn to ignore.

In this conversation, Bindiya reflects on the symbolism of the Silver Wolf, the faith we carry, the dialogue between poetry and photography within the book, and how poetry today continues to evolve as both a deeply solitary act and a shared cultural space.

Riding With The Silver Wolf; Avni Jain in conversation with Bindiya Bedi
Riding With The Silver Wolf, published by Red River Press
Now available on Amazon.

Riding With The Silver Wolf, published by Red River Press

Starting with the title, Riding with The Silver Wolf, it immediately pulls the reader in. What does the symbol of the “Silver Wolf” represent in the book?

‘Riding with The Silver Wolf’ is an invitation to your inherent wisdom and your instinctive nature, which is sometimes hidden under the dust of too much superfluous information, so that it never comes to light.

So basically, I’m inviting you to traverse this path with me through our societal issues and also our personal challenges, while at the same time riding with the Silver Wolf — calling out your raw inner intuition, which exists in all of us — to find the wisdom to do the things which will make us happy in the long run.

So join me in this landscape, where we go from Varanasi to different places, to Paris, and at the same time go deep down within ourselves to find the inner core, which is raw and real, like the Silver Wolf.


Your poetry moves between faith and doubt. What questions do you hope readers begin asking themselves as they read the book?

See, the reader must know who he is. Who am I? Am I a daughter? Am I a mother? Am I a professional? Who am I?

We are all different personalities. To live with the truth of your authentic self — I feel the reader will, somewhere in the nuances of different aspects of this book, find some kind of an answer to the search for their own reality.

To be authentic, to be your true self, is where you will find your success and happiness in the long run.


Many readers describe Riding with the Silver Wolf as an antidote to a rushed life. Was the book conceived as a pause for reflection?

When your book goes out, anything can happen. But I am happy that the book has been received well, and I would like to think that I have got some good reviews. Above all, whoever reads it has reached out to me and shared that somewhere they find resonance to something which probably they didn’t even know they were looking for.

Sometimes we have our doubts. Sometimes we have our confusions. But ultimately, we want to be conflict-free individuals. When we are at cross purposes — our heart saying one thing and our head saying another — then we cannot find our purpose and actualise it.

We cannot find success and happiness in what we do in the present moment. We all go through a journey to reach that happy place. For that, we need to be still. We need to think. We have to give our mind and heart some space to introspect so that we can discover who we really are.

Even though the book discusses heavy topics, it invites you to sit still and think about them. Find answers within the book, but also find the answers within your heart because poetry is very raw. Poetry is very real. It does not pretend.

To get out of the mask and find your true self, to be able to discover a passion, I feel,  we all must have a passion beyond our professions and beyond our social obligations. I hope it helps readers to think about it, find this, because that is what poetry has helped me to do.


The book also engages with feminism and ecological responsibility. How do these social concerns enter the inner journey of the poems?

Riding with the Silver Wolf talks about feminism and ecological responsibility that we all bear as citizens of the planet Earth.

It takes you to different places and at the same time asks you  — Can you really turn a blind eye to these things happening around us and just be happy in your own bubble?

We would all like to, but can we do it? I don’t think so. So the inner voice is calling you to explore and identify your own sense of social responsibility while keeping your freedom intact, and contribute towards making a better world.

For that, you have to be in touch with your core, inherent nature and your innate wisdom, which is symbolised by the Silver Wolf. It keeps calling you to find out in what way you can practically contribute to making this world a better place for yourself and for the next generations.

After all, our children are going to inherit what we create.


Your sister’s photography in the book is rooted in documentary realism, while your poetry feels more mystical and inward. How did these two artistic languages meet within the project?

When two people collaborate, it’s never a very smooth sail, but in those discussions and conflicting ideas is where we find the bridge.

The dialogue with my sister — on how to decide the cover, what the meaning of the Silver Wolf is, and how to translate the written word into imagery — was a journey in itself.

It brought us together. I truly believe that as siblings, we may be poles apart and have very different personalities, but collaboration around a subject or activity is great fun. You find many common points and grow together. This is the second book where we have found synergies, despite living far apart, in different countries, too.

Each one learns from the other, and we grow into this beautiful space, which is new, far beyond what we were when we were young siblings. Relationships deepen, and this profundity is what life is all about.

Launching ‘Riding With The Silver Wolf’ at the November India Stanza, held at Kiran Nadar Museum of Art

From left to right: Ashley, Komal Bedi Sohal, Sanjula Sharma, Bindiya Bedi Charan Noronha, Mandira Ghosh


You also established the India Stanza of the UK Poetry Society. Do you see poetry as an act of solitude or a communal experience?

First of all, we each have to be comfortable with our individuality, and we don’t imitate others. Like in a bouquet, each flower lends its own beauty.

Poetry begins as an act of solitude, but then it flows out to others. A community is very important because this is the age of collaboration and cooperation.

Relationships are shrinking, so we need our communities and we need each other. Poetry for me is the beginning of a dialogue which leads to alliances and new friendships.

India Stanza is all about working together in the realm of poetry. People used to think poetry was dead, but more and more young people are coming towards it because they are able to express their authentic voice, and they feel treasured.

Everybody wants to be seen and heard. Everybody is unique, so they deserve to be seen and heard. We have to create platforms which are non-judgmental, and I feel that Poetry and India Stanza are trying to do that.


Your work often moves beyond traditional forms of poetry. Do you see poetry evolving further into interdisciplinary forms — performance, visual art, and digital spaces?

One beautiful thing we have experienced through our monthly India Stanza meetings is that poetry is transgenerational. We have very young poets and older poets who add gravitas and guide the younger ones.

At the same time, younger poets bring enthusiasm and new topics, giving us insight into the future of the world.

Poetry is moving towards performance, but it is also very therapeutic. There is so much conflict and so many problems in the world that we all need ways to process them creatively.

Poetry offers a creative way of dealing with these emotions — not in an aggressive way where things are destroyed, but in a positive way where sensitivity is expressed. It is healing and therapeutic.

We are also trying to blend spoken word with the literary tradition, bringing experienced poets and younger voices together. Most importantly, we want to create a space where we listen and value each other.

In today’s world, everyone wants to blow their own trumpet. Here, we want to create a place where we listen with an open heart and support each other.


Having spent decades engaged with cultures and languages around the world, what role do you think poetry plays today?

Poetry is evolving everywhere. I studied French and Portuguese, and each language opens a window into its literature.

When you explore literature across countries, you realise that at the end of the day, we are all human. Emotions are the same everywhere — love is the same, rage is the same. The subjects may differ slightly, but those differences are mostly cosmetic.

We may be divided by borders and boundaries, but essentially, human beings are the same. Poetry is unmasked emotions.

So it must evolve for young people to find their voice. It is not only about becoming a big personality. It is a beautiful way to express inner anguish and inner happiness and feel connected.


When readers turn the final page of the book, what do you hope stays with them — the photograph, the poem, or something else entirely?

People will find something within the gap.

There is the photograph, there is the poem, there is the feeling and the emotional reaction. But somewhere within those gaps they will find an individual expression — which is what I would like to see.

i had a dream by Avni Jain

i had a dream i was rolling down mountain grass like i did at 9

i let the same wind take me like it did when i was 7

things don’t seem

as wide

as endless

as infinite

the way they did at 13

because i can’t flow with the wind anymore

breathing seems heavier than usual

the ruins of eating disorder are building themselves up again

and this time they seem invicible once again

a grey cloud overcasts my brain

my heart so deprived of warmth

and i know this feeling too well to feel it all over again.

i sometimes wish i never left that walled city of darkness

because im hitting curbs and everything along the way to not take that path anymore

but the city calls for me.

the city feels like a home to me.

the city strips me of my desire to make any effort

to smile

to eat

to breathe

dreaming of a way out seems like that one blinking nightlight without any spot of blood on it

but dreaming of a world unknown in this ill built walled city seems so scary

because that’s what led me here the first time.

and im afraid

the blinking nightlight would soon extinguish too.

-Avni Jain

you say you love me by Avni Jain

you say you love me then why do you make me feel so starved for love

you say love me but i dont see that love in the look of disgust you throw at me

you say love me but your words become blades severing every fragile wall i built

you say you love me but im scared because beauty starts decaying once it starts belonging.

you say you love me but your name is burnt into my skin and i smell of smoke and dying flesh on my way back home.

you say you love me and i feel like a lovesick fool around you but i feel walls creeping up on me the way your hands did as soon as i reach home.

it fills my entire room until i can’t move any longer

until i pick up the blade to return to my body.

my pysche cries a war on my body because

i have been trying recover lost time and all i can remembers is your hollow i love yous.

the next time you tell me you love me,

i wouldn’t say i don’t believe it.

i would say i want to.

-Avni Jain

i don’t stay long enough

i don’t stay long enough to hear the applause

mainly because i feel like i don’t deserve it

i don’t stay long enough to be loved

letters from lost lovers lie strangled in mess of my mind

i don’t dare to open them

for im scared of all the missed love stories

i move through people’s lives like a drift

i don’t like the ways they’ve looked at me.

the ways they’ve perceived me.

i don’t know when i turn transform from a person to a concept

a figment of their ideas.

i run back to my home reducing everything into a metaphor

;

they asked me where do i want to be in the next 5 years

i want to have an exit door

i want a little extra space

i want the little spaces between the boxes to breathe

to flow into

i want to run as i fast i can

i want to breathe in a land beyond the four walls

i want the strength to push these walls when they creep onto me

when every metaphor i write comes crumbling down into the ugly truth it was

when no artistry can aid the blood dripping over the same four walls;

when i can’t separate my breath and smoke anymore

i need the strength.

the power

to stay.

to fight back.

-Avni Jain

ghosts that reside in my body

ghosts that reside in my body

i. trauma

my trauma resides in my vocal cord

stealing and burying every cry for help

it strangles my throat with the hands i didn’t give it.

i’ve painted my tongue with

crushed blueberries and strawberries

sugarcoated it

with words people want to hear.

ii. the little girl i once was

the little girl i once was

wanted a home

needed a home

begged for a home

as i prisoned her in my ribcage

her wounded soul still fights

everyday

because

she wanted an eternal life

and i gave her an eternity of misery

in the shackles of my brain.

iii. person i am

my brain kills the person i am everyday

she bleeds all over the floor

she holds the little girl’s hands

because

she knows

she’s the only one who can save her

she begs her to return

but

the blood

the terror

isn’t her home.

iv. faces i’ve worn

my mind feels like a maze im trying to escape

i see faces lying there.

faces i wore and threw over the years.

for all i knew at this point was,

these faces aren’t mine.

v. fear and anxiety

they reside in my heart

clutching onto it

like an

ill fitted dress

whenever

grief reveals its repeated patterns.

they burn my heart

until theres nothing but

ashes all over me.

vi. people i’ve loved and lost

the ghosts of people i’ve loved and lost

reside in my veins

and haunt me

every night

in my sleep.

vii. grief

grief holds my legs

stops me from feeling the beat of the music

makes me hate the world

without music.