Voices Within: Aneek Chatterjee

Aneek Chatterjee is an Indian poet and academic from Kolkata and author of “Seaside Myopia: A Book of Poems” (Cyberwit.net, 2018). He has been published in literary magazines in the USA, Canada, Australia, Ireland, Mauritius, Philippines and India. His poems have been included in eight anthologies also; -- all published from the USA. Chatterjee has a Ph.D. in International Relations. He also authored and edited 9 academic books and a novel titled “The Funeral Procession”, besides numerous articles. He taught at the University of Virginia, USA as a Fulbright Visiting fellow.

Unborn Poems and Yellow Prison

I do not have much time.
Remove the sheet of mist
from the mustard field
I wish to see pranks of
yellow flowers,
wish to enjoy their blinks
under the winter sun
Let me see the river
playing hide and seek
with me, fishes
Do not net them
I’m averse to any prison,
red, blue or yellow
Let the fish swim in fancy
and wave to me,
let the tree
whisper agony in my ears
Do not talk loud
Poems are ready to have
a free, silent birth

Do not be the wall
along the mustard field,
yellow flowers and unborn
My river has all the time
to break any shackle

The Ancient Stoic

The river comes to you
and whispers: can you
see everything like
before, old fellow?
The river cleanses your feet
and pays homage
The air is engaged in
all kinds of pranks
with you.

Have you seen the carnival
last night, and physical
intimacy of young lovers?
Have you seen blood
of the murdered washed
away by waters,
and heard uncontrolled
cries of the mother ?

I hate your stoicism
over the ages, but silently aspire
to be like you,
now and always.

The Last Poem

A crow sitting on
a dry naked branch
has been shouting ruins
The morbid sound of a
dilapidated tram has irked
his senses
I searched love in
a dingy by-lane
The bluish ash cat only

I can still hear those melodious
tunes making the tree
grow again
I can see mother knitting
the dream sweater in
winter sun
I’m still playing hide
& seek with the air,
& all children

The crow is shouting
harsh in ruins;
& amid ruins everywhere
I try to compose my last
poem, under a
winter sun


At a meeting of the dead recently
the bearded man demanded
that he be shaved clean
The young lad wanted a football
ground on his book
The girl shouted for roads
free of pigs, & the lady
supported her
The crow dropped a lizard
from its beak & wished
pieces of cooked chicken
The queen held on to
her jewelry,
& the musicians
threw away their piano, guitar,
drums & violin

Life only smiled
in silent vengeance

Voices Within - Complete List of Poets :: Setu, January 2019

1 comment :

We welcome your comments related to the article and the topic being discussed. We expect the comments to be courteous, and respectful of the author and other commenters. Setu reserves the right to moderate, remove or reject comments that contain foul language, insult, hatred, personal information or indicate bad intention. The views expressed in comments reflect those of the commenter, not the official views of the Setu editorial board. प्रकाशित रचना से सम्बंधित शालीन सम्वाद का स्वागत है।