in ,

Rantings of a Mobile Phone

“Ouch!! It hurts!!!”

I wondered who said that!

“Ouch!!! It hurts!!!”

The cry echoed again,

Oh! My phone was the cry baby.


My phone said,

“You guys poke us,

With your fingers and

Scratch us with your sharp nails

And the stylus too.


We get suffocated,

And strangulated

When you squeeze us

Into your pockets,

And dingy bags.


We are either overfed,

That our tummies burst,

Or malnourished,

That we just go blank.

Can’t you just feed us right?


We feel our great grandparents,

Mr. Nokia 3310 and his friends,

Were the luckiest,

As they faded off,

Much before this torture.


Even now, as I vent out,

My madame poet, is poking me,

As she is typing down

My rantings, into a poem,

As her entry for the letter R! “


Pic Courtesy : Agê Barros on Unsplash

Kirti V


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Written by Kirti V


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