My Poor Right Hand

With the mobile in hand 
almost through the day,
on call from a friend
asking about my well being,
another from a relative
seeking guidance to fix 
a marriage proposal,
the third one from my staff 
asking for a loan, so I go on
talking, talking all the time
until my throat becomes dry
my voice goes down.

I lose track of the one 
and the other, giving advice 
to the wrong person, who pauses 
for a while, a little bewildered.
I clear my throat, realize
 my  fault, manage with 
 a guffaw, I exclaim “oh! it is—
 it was —“with a  long drawl
the person drops the call 
I continue to air my views
into the vacuum, gesticulating

Gosh ! In a split of a second
 my fingers turn numb, the mobile 
crashes down, luckily on  the bed,
a silent fall ,out goes the connection,
down comes my arm lifeless.
Not longer I experience a shooting 
pain around my shoulder blade
travels through the arms,  pinches
the nerves, the wrist loses action
the palm remains  dead,. The mobile 
comes to life, rings uninterruptedly.
My left hand  dares not  pick the gadget. 
Left is sensible than right.