In Love With Ananya. Poem by PARTHA SARATHI PAUL

With lots orchestra of clouds
a little song rain rained.
Soil breaths out sultry breaths
what makes a mind heavy.

Cell phone sitting idly alone
muses about you now.
Many gathered clouds in my mind
dance spreading peacock plumes.

Why you are yet silent?
Are you yet lost in my poetry recitation?
Here the evening jumps to the arms of night
calling for electricity.

Power shirks in good supply
in rural areas at small rainfall.
But we never shirk in our love
in hot summer or in hard rain.