Eternal Love

My eyes shine... 
Because you are their light.

I speak... 
Because you are my words.

My Spirit soars... 
Because your spirit soars with me.

My arms reach... 
Because you are there to embrace.

I walk... 
Because you walk beside me.

My love survives... 
Because you are my heart.

My passion burns... 
Because your passion blazes within me.

I smile... 
Because you are my laughter.

I am me... 
Because you are everything to me.

Compelled Immobility

This morning I casually asked a friend, "What is the worst thing that has ever happened to you? She said, "I missed a train because I was five minutes late." "Hmmm...That’s alright," I thought. A couple more of informal replies - My handbag was stolen in the busy streets as I was shopping (On come on! It must have had a couple of lip shades and a couple more of nail colours...Please!!!); I lost my unbreakable, water-proof, fire-proof, user-friendly watch (Yeah, enough that the watch already did far more than it was designed to do!); I failed my board examinations (Okay, here is something you can think of worrying about.) "What is the worst thing that has ever happened to me?" As I pondered over this, my mind went back to the time I lost my mobile phone. 


Immobile is what I felt at the moment."My contacts!" I shrieked. The first sting of losing your mobile hits you hard when you realise that losing the instrument is but secondary. What tops the chart is still the synchronised phone book that goes alongside the instrument. That "Phone Book" which could have been saved into your system (but then, you never have the time to update your contacts! It could go Ram Home, Ram Home 1, Ram Office, Ram Fax...even Ram wouldn't know he had these many numbers!) or at least could have been written down in a telephone diary (Okay, that is what the senior citizens do, not the youth!). I cursed myself for my incompetence in not saving the contacts. Could my forever shrinking ability to recall names stored in my phone book take the pressure? I drew an immediate plan of action - to remember the important names first, to trace the person next (Oh come on, not everyone is on Facebook or LinkedIn and then follow up to get the number. Phew! Totally not worth it! But then, like I had a choice!

It took me a great deal of time to remember where I had last seen my phone. I was reasonably certain that I left it near the TV, its usual place. In the common, every day event of misplacing one's phone, the natural remedy is to call from the landline and then follow the ring. Lo and behold! You discover that your phone was left under the pillow and manage to retrieve it. That day, however, no number of calls helped in tracing my phone. 


"The subscriber cannot be reached at the moment." said a voice. I began to wonder if service providers should apologise for being unable to reach the subscriber rather than just announce. "My contacts," I sighed. An empathetic friend offered to deactivate my number. The investment in a new phone would also have to accommodate the cost of re-activating a new SIM card, with the old number. "Please do it right away," I told her, "the least I can do now is to save my bill that could run up to unscrupulous figures if someone else used my number..." I needed to do my investment planning right away. I decided to merely buy a basic instrument - something that would enable receiving/making calls and messaging. No Apples or any other fruits!

At the store, the technological buffet somehow did not fascinate me as it usually would. I still was in my mourning period! As I was scrutinising a primary model, the sales rep told me to take a 'hotter' model. "You can make or take calls with this phone. Surely read and write messages, but then this phone would not represent you." He paused, giving me time to ponder over his words of wisdom! "Represent me?" I thought to myself.

Let aside your personality, your calibre, your dressing patters, now people take cue of who you really are from your mobile phone! Thoroughly impressed with his selling skills, I used my credit card (This expense was definitely unforeseen) and brought home a sparkling new gadget - something that 'represented' me! My friend announced that we could collect the new SIM right away, merely by paying its cost. My contacts were left out. I stored the numbers that I knew by heart - my residence and my father's. I tried to recollect a few names, but then the loss had made me go off course, driving home the fact that my memory needed an upgrade to co-operate. I felt dyslexic trying to remember numbers. "May be you need a telephone diary," my dad suggested. "Yeah, right!" I mumbled.