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 His poetry has been archived at Yale University. 

Giggles  

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

This Road

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