My phone rings in the morning,
I look at the screen and Truecaller says
It’s a promotional call.
I don’t pick up the call; it rings a few times and dies.
Half an hour later the phone rings again.
Truecaller says it’s potential spam.
I don’t take the call;
It chirrups for a while before stopping.
Ten minutes later, the phone cries again.
Truecaller says it’s from the bank.
I answer and indeed it is.
But it is a promotional call asking me for more funds.
Eighteen minutes later the phone shouts again.
Truecaller says it’s from a verified business.
I swipe the green button and put the phone on speaker.
It is a recorded message saying not to share passwords and OTPs.
An hour later, I get a call from my brother.
Truecaller is happy—the number is in my contacts.
I pick up the call and talk to my brother.
We exchange news, chat for some time, and end the call.
Then I get about fifteen calls in the next four hours.
Truecaller informs me with sadistic glee that,
all of them are either spam or promotional calls.
So, I leave the phone alone to cry and stop when the call ends.
Over eight hours, I received around thirty calls.
Truecaller catches most of them, and spares me from attending them
A few managed to evade the Truecaller’s watchful eyes.
Finally, I switched off the phone so that I could work peacefully.
Technology tolls like a restless bell,
its promise ringing with both gift and grief.
It builds bridges of voices across distance,
yet breeds shadows that gnaw at our time.
Choose your bells with care—
for some summon kinship,
and others only echo emptiness.
