The Language of Silence

Somebody said it well - 'Sometimes the most powerful thing you can say is - nothing at all.'

Don’t know why but, I find silence extremely liberating. Being a person who most often finds words falling short to replicate the expressions, silence for me is the most powerful and compatible language. No, am not an introvert nor a loner, but somehow things that I can’t say in a combination of thousand words, I can convey it seamlessly through silence, that too in the most unadulterated form. It is legible – Silence, it is expressive and it is beautiful, if only you understand it.

There is something loud and clear about unspoken words, they spell thoughts and emotions in the most genuine form for, one never goes silent on things one isn’t passionate about. Sitting against a window watching the raindrops, walking down the pavements alone, sinking in the wishful reveries – silence is all consuming. And soothing. And addictive. 

It caresses the soul like nothing else; a drug to which the more you get access to, the more you ask for it. A cocooned sphere where you are not answerable to anyone nor anyone else is put to answering you. A space where you can be yourself and let others be the way they are, where relationships are not robbed off their dignity and warmth, where there are no blame games and expectations...its just a golden space, a vacuumed golden space where you are devoid of all the worldly vices and virtues and find yourself floating in the abyss of a perfect wonderland of your thoughts.

...yes, I have and I do wander to that golden field beyond the right-doings and wrong-doings many a times...the place where words are shunned while silence speaks for itself...I relate to it, to that golden field; guess its the place I belong to...

One Saturday Story

She had always been excited about her birthdays, ever since her childhood. This year she was a little more excited… it was going to be special for her coz her birthday was falling on a Saturday!

A SATURDAY……of late, the cold wintry Saturday nights had turned into warm cozy conversations for her. She sleepwalked the entire week to stay up all through the Saturday nights for those sweet nothings that made her smile the following days. For her, to have her birthday on a Saturday this year was a small little trick of destiny for fostering the bond that grew, a bit more strong.

She daydreamed about the events of her special day as she entered her birthday month. With each passing day her anxiety and excitement increased…for anxiety made her stand in front of the mirror and practice the standard replies to the standard questions. Recording and analyzing her voice speaking vague monologues were another attempt at correcting the voice pitch. Spoken conversations had never been her forte and so, she practiced, practiced, practiced and practiced hard; she didn’t want to mess it up at any cost...not this time. As for the excitement, she couldn’t wait for her birthday to witness what the day held for her; how she would be pampered – It was to be a Saturday afterall.

Her birthday – 12:00 a.m. – Cell started beeping in as her friends and family members poured texts and calls to wish her. She thanked everyone, laughed, chirped, enjoyed the attention with only one thing at the back of her mind – It’s a Saturday today.

9:00 a.m. – Her spirits were high. She roamed in the house like a five year old kid – singing, jumping, fooling around; excited and hopeful about the day ahead. She was ardently waiting for ‘the conversation’ to happen coz it was her birthday and, it was a Saturday.

4:00 p.m. – She shuffled her closet to find the most complementing accessories for the clothes that she planned to wear for celebrations with her friends. She then blow-dried her hair until she got them styled exactly as she wanted. The amount of moisturizer was a bit more generous today coz she had to look her best not because it was her birthday, but because it was a Saturday.

6:00 p.m. – Amidst all the hullabaloo of celebrations with her friends, she had a clear sense of just one simple fact; the day that it was – Saturday.

9:00 p.m. – Her anxiety was at its peak. This – was the time ‘the conversation’ needed to happen for, the hours of her special day were slipping away. She was sad for not being paid any attention since morning and so didn’t need any other reason to complain or spoil the highly anticipated conversation. Her anxiety, nervousness and irritation didn’t allow her to part from her phone simply because it was a Goddamn Saturday!

12:00 a.m. – Lying in her bed, she couldn’t believe her cell screen showing a different date and a different day. Her ‘birthday’ which was on a ‘Saturday’ was over…and…there was no conversation.
With a sudden sense of betrayal, she found the flashes of her speech practicing, dressing up, getting herself clicked and more, mocking at her. Feeling utterly foolish and unable to hold back, all her efforts, reveries, hopes came out flooding through her eyes. Heartbroken, at last she kept her phone away and pulled on the quilt to cover herself up; a meek attempt at mentally saving herself of the embarrassment. Her body curled instinctively beneath it as she felt exceptionally cold…and then an afterthought –

Maybe her birthday was not meant to be on a Saturday, maybe it pained more coz it was on a Saturday.