top of page

THE HAIBUN GALLERY: 17th April 2025. Sandip Chauhan - Guest Editor

hosts: Shalini Pattabiraman, Vidya Shankar, Firdaus Parvez and Kala Ramesh

A Thursday Feature

17th April 2025


IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT BELOW


THE HAIBUN GALLERY  APRIL 2025   Sandip Chauhan


Prompt 3


The Spring of My Life – Kobayashi Issa


People like myself think in a way a little different from him, for we live in a world filled with earthly dust. In fact, I cannot even go along with what ordinary people do, namely, celebrating the New Year with cranes and tortoises and exchanging hollow-sounding greetings, the kind of greetings given by beggars at our gates during the New Year’s season. In my opinion, people like myself who live in a ramshackle status should celebrate the occasion in a manner appropriate to our ramshackle status. Thus I neither put up pine decorations nor swept the dust of the old year away from our house. This year, too, I left everything to Buddha in welcoming the new spring.


felicity I feel

is of the middle kind—

the spring of my life


Excerpted from Dew on the Grass: The Life and Poetry of Kobayashi Issa by Makoto Ueda.


The Story Behind Issa’s Haibun


The opening haibun of The Spring of My Life was inspired by a Buddhist story from Sand and Pebbles (Shasekishū), a 13th-century text by Mujū Ichien. In the original tale, a Buddhist priest writes a letter to himself on New Year’s Eve, inviting himself to Paradise. He hands it to his disciple, instructing him to return it the next morning. When the letter arrives, the priest weeps with joy, believing it to be a divine calling.


Issa borrows this episode but rejects both the priest’s illusion and the extravagant New Year’s celebrations of ordinary people. Instead, he chooses a “middle kind” of happiness—neither seeking salvation nor indulging in material pleasures. His haibun reflects his acceptance of life as it is, while also revealing his inability to detach completely from human emotions.

Though he avoids traditional New Year’s decorations, Issa still prepares a meal for his daughter, savoring the simple joy of being a father. This happiness is fragile—his daughter would not live long, and Issa’s joy would soon turn into grief. His haibun reveals the tension between faith and attachment, between embracing impermanence and holding on to fleeting joys. He understands that everything must pass, but he still finds himself cherishing what he knows he cannot keep.


Prompt: The Fragile Joys of Life


In The Spring of My Life, Issa grapples with the contradictions of happiness—accepting life’s impermanence while still clinging to the small joys of love and family. His haibun moves between humor, sorrow, and quiet reflection, capturing moments that seem ordinary but later take on a deeper meaning.


What moments in your life have carried this duality of joy and loss? A celebration that later felt bittersweet? A fleeting moment of laughter with someone who is no longer here? A ritual, a conversation, or a gesture that, in hindsight, carried more weight than you realized at the time?


Write a haibun that captures a moment of fleeting happiness—a joy that lingers in memory, whether softened by time or sharpened by loss. What small joys remain? What lingers after they are gone?

 

********



IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT from Kala: NOTICE

              NOTICE


Dear Haibuneers


Starting from March 2025, we at haikuKATHA are moving on to a new submissions format for haibun submissions. (Only for haibun, please note!)


Writers are invited to submit one unpublished haibun per submission window.


Kindly note the submissions calendar.


1-20 March, to be considered for publication in May

1-20 June, to be considered for publication in August

1-20 September, to be considered for publication in November

1-20 December, to be considered for publication in February


All accepted submissions will receive an email to confirm their acceptance by the 5th day of the publication month.


Your unpublished (only one) haibun should be sent to: https://forms.gle/xUEiiDR9wd2dgqtR9 only during the submission period. 


********


The Haibun Gallery continues as is.

We will be having editors and prompts, and your sharing…


97 Comments


mona bedi
mona bedi
Apr 21

Post #2

21.4.25


Revised thanks to Lorraine:


… for better, for worse…


non seasonal rain

the muddy track

that leads home


The husband glares at her. She immediately cuts short the conversation she is having with a male colleague. On the way back home he is in a foul mood. Sitting in the car, she places her new handbag on the back seat of the Mercedes,hoping he wouldn’t see it. She had bought it with her own money but she knew it would irk him. “Is that a new bag?” his booming voice set her heart to beat faster. Looking out of the window she pretends not to hear him. “ IS THAT A NEW BAG???” he shouts.

“I bought…


Edited
Like
Replying to

Such a powerful piece Mona. One of my friends used to buy things and take the prices off and put a new price on, so her husband didn't know how much she had spent...such a sad thing to have to do...

Like

#1

19 April


Edited with inputs from Joanna, Alfred Booth


The sweet tug


I have gone sugarless in my tea - an immediate step to lower my Triglyceride numbers. I do love my ginger black tea which I leave to seep gently in hot water (not boiling) and sweeten with sugar, with a dash of milk as a start of my average day. After ten successive days the urge to have my sweet tea gave a tug and I gave in.


ginger tea

slurping the last bit -

an empty cup


Leena Anandhi, India

Feedbacks welcome


original post


The joyless cuppa


I have gone sugarless in my tea- an immediate step to lower my Triglyceride numbers I do love m…


Edited
Like
Replying to

A lovely edit Leena.

Like

Mohua
Mohua
Apr 19

#1


Revised (Thank you Alfred, Joanna, Lorraine)


Weaving Us                         

 

My father is in the ICU for over a week now. Hospitalized for a broken rib, he had to be shifted to the ICU for pneumonia. At his age, this is bad news, especially as we are now allowed to meet him for a few minutes at a time.

 

His periods of isolation under the relentless ICU lights and beeps become longer and longer.

 

The times we meet, he asks if Ma’s Aadhar card has arrived. If my brother has added his own details to make him a joint holder of the bank’s locker with Ma.

 

My sister, who has been with my father since his…


Edited
Like
Replying to

I think the ku that you have now added works really well Mohua. A beautiful piece of writing.

Like

Mohua
Mohua
Apr 19

Thank you Sandip for a lovely prompt.

Like
Replying to

thank you, Mohua!

Like

#2


Lost in a haiku


There is music in Van Gogh's "The Starry Night." It hovers around the edges of the canvas, waiting for a viewer to close his eyes and see it in his own memory.


a distant bell

quiets the crickets

a call to prayer


Alfred Booth

Lyon, France

(feedback welcome)

Edited
Like
Replying to

Yes, Lorraine, to really appreciate a visual masterpiece, one must have the space and time to sit quietly with it. I’m reminded of the enormous crowds always surrounding thecMona Lisa at the Louvre. I can imagine it’s the same thing at MOMA in NYC.

Like
bottom of page