An Idle Afternoon Poem by BASAB CHAUDHURI

Busy with papers, yet there is no rush of epinephrine -
there is no challenging thought that unsettles me:
a dull afternoon; all are so routine, so mundane!
On such days I feel like ashes strewn all over,
I brood, I am withdrawn -
and suddenly, I hold the ashes in my hand and throw up in the air,
they form cloud - it starts raining and I get drenched.
Dream, dream all around, I am soaked in dream,
I shout to myself: I am, here I am -
I rise like a phoenix!