my cellular love...a refuge...

My love is so cellular
She sends me messages every night
And sometimes even, when I am caught
In midday traffic at the Chowringhee road broad!

The other day I got her call
I was then at a bookstore, at Spencer's  mall...
Sitting on the cushioned stool with a book
Full of photographs of my city, as Raghu Rai took
Once upon a time when the city was all
Black and white and without buildings tall;
Luckily, my cellular love is so good
For she through the phone stood
By me and my paintbrush and pen
Helping me often to get rid of the din
And bustle of the streets full of men
And women shouting and fighting-
As if the world is at its end!

She, my love, comes to me as the sexiest voice
Through my cell-phone keeping me moist,
Even when I am standing under the scorching heat
Without a tree, and thinking every time to beat a retreat!

My love, is so cellular and wavy
That she helps me to unload the heart so heavy...
She helps me to find trees and the garden
Like an idea so overwhelmingly sudden-
Even when I am lost in the crowd
And deafened almost by the city so loud!



 








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