Cellular Death

 My mobile phone has perished. Don't you think it doesn´t pain me to say so. It grieves me, but somehow I must write about it, say it here and now, for I can't hold back any longer.
 The black old chum is gone for good. And why include its obituary in my Brazilian Notes? Well, where else to write a few respectful lines, humble homage to a loyal companion that today- yes, today- met its unexpected end on this earth, and who had until now been most useful - isn't that important?- during my whole stay in this country. Companion for too long a time, in fact, to forget and let pass as if nothing had occurred. Lastly, though by no means is this the least of my sorrows, I should say - not without a bitter twinge of pain- that our black little buddy went off when I most needed it, once, and for all.
 Oh, dear old Nokia! Why did it have to be this morning? Just then, at the exact moment when you were called upon your duty, that most honourable duty of yours? Why did you have to leave me- me!- your honest owner, your only owner, so mercilessly uncommunicated, so utterly isolated, unable even to express my most basic emotions to my peers at the other end of the line, to humanity itself through words, through language, its number one communication mechanism?
 No, old chap, you left me glum ,speechless, somewhat disappointed in capitalist manufacturing- it's true- but above all you left me alone. 
 By myself I can't say anything, I'm mute. Those messages of responsibility, of love, of life shall never be uttered. They shall never be delivered. My dear old fellow, by myself I'm a wretched invalid whose helplessness may be suitable only for bringing dishonour and disgrace on my impotent silence. Not even a day has passed since your sudden departure and already this miserable man misses your prompt functions like a fish on land would miss the water. You had become a cell of my body, a part of my hand, a communication tool for my acquaintances and a locating device for my friends. Where am I to be found now, after your injurious demise? Why did it have to happen?
 But I guess everything comes to an end and it's just that I wasn't ready for it.
 I hope you're well wherever you may be. I really trust that'll be the case. And, have you found company? Have you seen other Nokia fellow-souls, perhaps, from whom your amiable spirit might take a little comfort?
And have you already met your maker? Oh, I don't think so my poor little thing, since after all you were made by some thoughtless machine somewhere in China, simply assembled by quite unsympathetic robots. Never mind, never mind...
 Farewell my friend! I will remain mute. And come what may, you shall not be superseded. I will remain loyal, I will remain mute.
 Farewell my friend.
 Farewell.