anandiroy

A phone book full of numbers

Of relatives I barely know

And friends, who barely know me

The plumber who fixed my faucets once

The electric company and

Random strangers

But who are useful in some way

To me

Or were

Long abandoned, it lied under my bed

Until today, appeared

Half eaten by termites

It smelt of earth and sincerity

Curved at the edges where the termites had plundered

Isn’t it more beautiful now? I pondered 

The phone book, half eaten

Is half full now of

 Half numbers and

Half people and

Half feelings of

How I knew them halfway