The Missed Caller

Ring. And as you casually glance at the screen of your phone, you are jolted into a ride of your past associations with the caller whose name you find displayed after a relatively long period. As it rings, you think of the moment's peace he has shattered, wonder if you should pick the call or not, and again ponder over the possible reasons why he has chosen to end the infrequency—a clairvoyant agreement by both parties, having understood that it is best if both are left alone. You tell yourself that it is greatly unfair since the caller, beyond doubt, wants to catch you abrupt and defenseless. Coward. You can choose not to pick the call at all. Choose between the multiple lies at leisure and return the call, when you are 'prepared' for a conversation, or the lack of it. But the self-respect and bravery that you have painfully developed asks you to answer the call because you know even he wouldn't be expecting you to, on the first hand.

"Hello", you say,instead of "Hello?" and win round one. But your devices are tested as the other side takes a little too long to answer, and the same throat which helped you make the addressing a little heavy, goes dry, in a moment.

There is silence again, and it helps you gather back your courage since the other person doesn't seem to be keen on exploiting his advantage. Is this a moment of some emotional cognizance or of deep contemplation? You are confused again. Though it blurs the image you have built of your caller, you still feel the discomfort of the likely conversation about things past, and tell yourself that if it were you, you wouldn't have bothered to call ever, helping another contact in your phone fade into the oblivion when you clean up the list or change the cell phone or SIM for that matter. But look at him.

Now you know the silence is too prolonged to fall under any of the comprehensible situations. And now you say, "Hello?", making it obvious that you have other business to attend to— yet another victory.

But then you realise, you are not talking to him, there is no conversation, just noises, of an abandoned street? You are talking to 'something' else, not an entity but something vast and omnipresent. Now, the situation seem more familiar or graspable, so to say. You are caught in this flux of thoughts memories and snapshots before you understand where you stand–At the mercy of silly gadgets, which can not think and still get the better of you. You think about the days when you used to be proud of the fact that your name starts with the first alphabet. And before throwing your phone onto something soft accompanied by that imperative swearword, you think of the caller, walking somewhere, the last thing on his mind being you, unaware of the pressed button of his cellphone inside one of his pockets.