A poem about how phone calls can change my world till it’s back to beautiful again
“What a beautiful world!”
I say to myself standing on the rooftop
While the evening winds subtly touch my face
And the very last sun rays of the day
tinted with glowing orange hues fall on my skin
I think about how all the things that I once dreamed of
have somehow come to reality.
“How lucky am I to be me!”
It’s only been a couple of minutes
Since I’ve been experiencing
This newly found ecstasy and my phone rings.
Another couple of minutes and that phone call has certainly
disrupted what I call ‘My happy Sunset Hour’.
But that’s not all,
phone calls also sometimes change the way
I’ve been looking at life, at myself, and the people in my life.
And for a few days post these calls
I find myself in corners, sobbing over the lost happy days
Screaming, hoping that when I open my eyes again
It somehow turns out to be a nightmare which is over.
Instead, when I open my eyes I find out that the real world too can be a nightmare.
A week later, I hear another voice, it says-
“Maybe this is just how everything is supposed to be,
Maybe not everything is all bad yet.”
After all the evening winds still touch my face with affection
The sun still embellishes my skin with changing shades of crimson
And I can still smell the damp air after the first rain.
Maybe phone calls can change only my part of the world
The rest of it still stays just as beautiful and pacifying as it has always been.
“Happy hours do come back again
Even when their return looks like the most distant possibility.”
This reminder rings in my head every time a phone call shakes my bit of the world
And I keep going because now I know that the rest of the world
possesses permanent beauty.
All I need is a walk out of my little one.