Aneek Chatterjee is a poet and academic from Kolkata, India. He has been published in reputed literary magazines and poetry anthologies across the globe. His recent credits are: Chiron Review, Better Than Starbucks, Poesis, Poetry Potion, Shot Glass Journal, The Stray Branch, Dissident Voice, Café Dissensus, Literary Yard, Ann Arbor Review, Chicago Record, Setu, Ethos Literary Journal, GloMag, New Asian Writing, Montreal Writes, Scarlet Leaf Review, Pangolin Review, Mark Literary Review, Merak Magazine, Taj Mahal Review etc. He authored 13 books including two poetry collections titled “Seaside Myopia” & “Unborn Poems and Yellow Prison” (Cyberwit.net), and a novel named “The Funeral Procession”. Chatterjee has a PhD in International Relations; and he has been teaching in leading Indian and foreign universities. His poetry has been archived at Yale University.
Mother laughs in the corner of my now open heart I stretch my eyes in tandem with the black wire, but all vanish into the oblivion A few fairies come back along the dark route & whisper fairy tales & mother helps them with more exciting fables I try to open my eyes to rescue her sullied recipe but they are lost, in oblivion & in a white bed, I hear fairy giggles
Where does this road go? It goes through my mind to the mystery jungle, where I bloom like a yellow flower & feel soft butterflies. It goes up the hill where I kiss the clouds & bathe inside rains; where I am the yet-to-be named orchid. It goes to the blue sea to make me a marine life in the world of colorful fishes. I play with them in the warm zone. This road also goes to a crematorium in the heart of the city, where in a wintry evening I bid adieu my brother & felt like ashes in the burning pyre. This road goes through narrow by-lanes where struggle for existence gets cinematic, and some real heroes are born everyday. This road makes my sojourn endless, timeless too