The Call - A Short Story Poem by Alok Agarwal

8: 00 p.m. ‘Hello! ’. A sulky sultry voice escapes my smart-phone to enter the mirror-maze of my ears. In the midst of ‘Why so sarkari’ evening shift, (without any prior appointment) an unwelcomed female voice pours elixir in the life of govt. employee. The Mughal gardens have send hell-bred music to awaken my tardy spirits.

The dreamy Me, feels the sun has risen amongst the stars. The opaque office walls have blocked the golden gleam of sunlight from entering our tainted minds, but the sweet voice on the other side is unaware of the man-made barriers. Her voice has released me on parole to talk to a stranger and Excel (sheet) in something ‘personal’. Is she my long last love from the forgotten SRK movie, or is the sound goddess playing some of her little tantrums on her devotee?

Who cares? I summoned my ethical-Sarkari attitude, to sneak out some time to chit-chat with my mystical princess on the opposite side of the communication tower. I stepped out from the masonry structure around me to have a ‘feel’ of my articulate caller. Having being used to live in a cozy air-conditioned space, I am out of the building without my weapon (jacket) . Mesmerized by the attack of chilly winter air from all directions, I am a lone warrior fighting with all my might with the merciless winds.

Never mind! I am the ‘Great Satan’. I will be back with vengeance, but not now. I have greater battles to win today. The king himself has entered the eternal arena to salvation. The undaunted warrior will leave no land untouched to rescue you from the devilish clutches of (umm, aaa) ________. Ahh! Grr! The words will prove no hurdle in my description of your silken musical melody.

‘Ahem! Hello! Ahem! Hello! Hello! Wrong number. Sorry to disturb you! ’

Alas! There is always a next battle to be won. I am a disciple of the spider-king story.