Biography of Jasbir Chatterjee
Jasbir Chatterjee was born in Delhi and spent her childhood years in Jamnagar, Gujarat, and Nigeria. She works at present as a Manager in the automotive industry in Delhi. She began writing at age 15 and continues to write as a hobby. She began with poetry initially and started writing short stories in 2011. She lives in Delhi with her husband, a theatre professional, and her 18-year-old daughter, an undergraduate student of English Literature, Delhi University. She has a blog also where where you can read my poems and short stories. URL is http: //jasbirchatterjee.wordpress.com/
Jasbir Chatterjee's Works:
My poem 'The Delhi Metro' was published in 2012 in an Oxford University Press, UK, textbook. URL is https: //global.oup.com/education/product/9780199129683/? region=international
Jasbir Chatterjee Poems
A Cloud Of Rain
A dark cloud of rain drifted into my life And for some time, I felt good, happy...
When Intimacy Changes into Indifference
Time just flows past And you never notice Till subtle changes come bubbling to the surface; When intimacy turns into indifference.
My Sweet, Lonely, Little, World
Come, step into my sweet, lonely little world! Hand in hand, We shall run across the cliffs
Depression, A 10-letter word, Easy to utter, Slithers, oh so easily, down the throat,
The train is running Through the fields, the forests, and the deserts… So close to the earth and yet, An intrinsic part of the society—
The Delhi Metro
The doors slid open And I stepped in… What a great relief it was To be so far away
Nightmare of a Working Woman
I stood at the crowded railway station, Waiting anxiously for the train to arrive; Minutes ticked by… I was already very late…
Your easy laughter Your jokes and smiles And your jovial manner Makes me feel so good, so comfortable…
Autumn Of The Year 1988
When the harsh summer Surrenders To the charms of the gentle autumn, Everything seems to be so beautiful…
I often get a terrible feeling These days Of being powerless Helpless,
Thoughts Of A Mother
My daughter would turn 10 next month… I find it hard to believe! It seems only yesterday That she was born….
Speech is silver And silence, they say, is gold. But when bitter words remain Unuttered
Blood And Pain
One by one, They fall; the red clots of my blood... And all I can do is
Something strange has happened to me… I am always restless, never stable, never contented; Vacillating like a pendulum From one emotional state to another…
Gandhi Versus Godse
Time runs on, relentlessly.
History follows, in synchrony,
Dancing along, keeping pace...
Old wounds heal,
Scars diminish till they are gone...
Old debris is re-shuffled,
New pages and pictures come to light...
Killers appear to be martyrs,