i see my mother coil the air around her

finger talking on the phone. i remember

the knot in the spiral cord of the landline

as we plucked it out and dusted it off

when we moved out of the old house.

i remember my father filling out forms at

the BSNL office for the return of the now

small amount they'd then paid as deposit

when they first got connection a decade ago.

i remember thinking my father was miserly.

i remember the torn ten rupee note he'd saved

to cellotape later. i remember he'd known misery

working for the building he stayed in to be allowed

to stay on while he looked for some real work.

i hear my mother tell my father on the phone to stop

waiting for the bus and to just take an auto instead.

on my way to the cyber café to play counterstrike

on LAN i remember seeing a word scrawled on

the glass of the phone booth that the dew was too

little to wet and erase knowing whoever wrote it

must've run out of coins, out of time, of places

to fiddle with, but not out of words to touch on.

i remember my parents queued outside the phone

booth on halfprice sundays to call back home. i don't

know if i was already there or only going to be.

i remember how no one accepted the cellotaped note.

i know the deposit never came. my father still waits.

~ ajay

15/10/2022