Thank you Graham Bell

It has been more than 10 days since I had a chat with my people at home and my friends. I was really missing them especially my dear ones. My little nephew, my folks, my doo and all. While I was in the midst of work, a black coloured box ringing to the tune of, “The taste that gets you starting now, the taste that gets you going now”. (For people who are not aware, this is the Nescafe Advertisement tune). That is the ring tone for my favourite ones. I couldn’t believe myself that this little black box called the Telephone could get me back to where I was. I was in ultimate bliss. I picked up and that cute one comforted me the most, the way he vibrates the beautiful music from the other end and makes it pass through the ears so gently like that soft breeze is but a lovely feeling. He just takes you through happiness, sadness, guilt, pleasure, joy, sorrow and ‘et.al. As he takes us through the variety of emotions, he gives us the delight and harmony, experiencing ecstasy taking us to heaven. He does provide us the entertainment when needed and also the pleasure of making people the near and dear ones really near to you. However far you may be, he can help you get nearer to the person. As we feel and touch those nice keys and strike through those buttons, it’s a sensation and felling that just can’t be explained. As he facilitates us to hear that voice from the other side we do sometimes ignore what the telephone can do for us. Inviting people and make people anxious is his job. He is but an addiction and just can’t stop from laying the hands on him. And most of the times he is naughty too that he invites the wrong people and makes them pick up too. So sad sometimes. ( As this amazing lively creature, small and big, cute and nice, red and white, soft and loud gives us life; do we treat him the way he has to be? Brutal to him, banging him down, twisting and turning, dropping him many a times and let him down, pulling and pushing, throwing and catching. Does he cry? He does with small hissings and murmur. And we beat him up more again. Don’t take care when he says please take care of me and when he cries. When he is supposed to live longer, we treat him so badly and give him a scare and as he continues to cry, he is dumped into the ditch. Sad he feels and gets old and rotten and feels so famished, ignored and never bringing him back to life. And one fine day, as we realize that we feel Oh! My god, how I wish I had him to make my life even brighter and fresher. It is but too late All I have to say is “Thanks Graham Bell. I will take care of your little child.”