Kanchan Chatterjee works in the Finance Ministry of the Government of India as a tax officer. He has been writing poems and haiku since 2012. His poems have been published in a variety of ezines. He received an honourable mention for his entry in the 2017 Eto En Oi Ocha haiku contest in Japan.




slow cold wind all night then
it dies at the daybreak . . .

three white ducks
chanting down the pond
someone pushes the handpump
gush of water

muffled cough, a kid’s cry

dampish firewood squeaks and burns
smoke – they’re preparing some tea

the old shopkeeper says
(rubbing his palms)
it’ll be colder
than yesterday . . .




you can hear the

and laughter
and a child’s cry
and a muffled cough
while you sip
your first chai and
the mynahs sitting on the
electric wires

the chaiwallah talks
about his son’s
marriage and the distant roar
of a tiger
he heard near Guwahati . . .


the nearby
sawmill comes alive
suddenly, the mechanical sound, monotonous . . .


you think
about the long gone train
that must be reaching home
in an hour or so . . .