Bemused, I go with an enthusiasm.
an interruption as always
a phone call disturbs.
Laying the papers aside
I answer and get engrossed
in the conversation.
It is gossip in a way
talking of a cousin,
a very distant one.
The caller, I know
brags and drags
spites and curses.
The call goes on
for hours, I listen
with little interest.
For the first half an hour
I say yes or no, to keep
the exchange alive.
I am wrong, so to say,
affirmations outnumber
denials.
Half way through
I lose track, as I bury
myself in the documents.
Those being the wills
and probates drawn
by the forefathers.
The inheritance, I track
goes down with ease
to generations.
I decipher division of properties
could not detect even
a single digit multiplication.
The caller has hung up
long time ago. My phone
is on remains silent.
Meenas Poems 