O, Miscaller… Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

O miscaller, tell me your name,
What’s your identity,
Why do you not reveal,
Where do you live,
In which world,
Are you a lover, a burglar or an anti-social,
Are you trying to get information from?

If you do not have money, you may take,
But give not the missed calls and cut it not
After ringing, calling,
Asking to call back indirectly,
But the problem is
Sometimes the loafers when rang back,
Say they,
Why are you disturbing allegedly
Instead of saying wrong numbers?

Miscaller, even in this age of modernity,
Societal and civilizational development,
Modern etiquette and culture,
You could not be,
The same rough and tough fellow
Which you had been in the beginning,
You remained that,
Could not find time to change you yourself,
Learning from, seeing others,
Even though in the jeans pants and shirt
And with a phone handset see I,
You going,
But where, none can say it, God knows.