The Telephone
Man created this wonderful thing
Called the telephone.
It rings ever so shrilly
Jerking you upright from even the grave.
Then the words come through.
Ever so lifeless, so forced;
Devoid of any emotion
The tenor of the voice.
Drowned by miles of deadpan electronic waves.
Across the continents and seas
Through the satellites and clouds
So that by the time, it pierces the eardrums
A shudder passes through your very being.
Oh God! Is this what a relationship
Has been reduced to?
Do we have to go through the motions
Of pretending at non-existent emotions?
It makes one realize the magic of words,
Written and spoken.
And wonder at the difference
A few warm words can make,
In an ocean of indifference
In a cold, mechanical world.
Mitali Madhusmita
New Delhi
