The call from heaven

In the midst of tumultuous agitations,

Every weekend was like a beautiful baby

longing for its mother’s lap amidst people

longing for papers that are called ‘money’.

The weekend, not just for the break from the monotonous routine,

But for the call from heaven.

The call that made her forget her stressful blues,

That made her yearn to live longer,

That made her feel thankful that

Everyday would be a day filled with renewed hope and energy.

Fights, whinings, stories, advice...

The list went on.

There were only terse responses.

But still, she was happy for the caller was hers,

The caller held a heavenly position in her dreams of love.

Sometimes there was silence,

Sometimes there was magic,

Everytime the phone rang,

The bells started tinkling and she heard the caller’s voice

that acted as a prologue to the heavenly ritual.

Doubts of faith and trust lingered her mind,

Was it a ritual for everbody by the caller or just her?

Did everybody feel the magic or just her?

The game of love and affection interplayed with each other,

with the caller playing a mute spectator 

to the intricate thoughts swarming in her mind.

As she waits for the next call,

When the caller is free from the rituals of work,

The phone rings,

The call echoes in her ears

opening her to a new world of happiness and fantasies.