The conversation never took shape, I lapsed into an unxpected silence, yet again. I knew for sure what she wud ask me, "Tell me, what you're thinking"? I wish I had an answer to that, how I wish I cud tell her the thoughts that occupy my mind. I do try; to reflect back, a deeper silence follows the one before, and blends in to the vaccum, the amorphous form of random thoughts.
Why can I not tell her what I think? I have really nuthing to hide, nuthing to escape from, does my silence mean anything, or does it not? I cannot capture the thoughts that surround my mind; I cannot decorate them up. Just like the morning sun, I cannot hold my thoughts in my fist and neither can I define them. I must say something that might help us answer the questions that are now beginning to bother her.
"Can you understand silence"? I asked.
"Silence according to me is space to reflect and think" she said.
There are simple things in life that make so much sense when you hear them from someone else. I have always had the urge to run back into my shell because of loss of words. There is a sudden longing to start conversing with myself, in the middle of a conversation, when I am at a loss of words. How do I tell you what I have just said to myself. Most of my journeys into the inside me have begun and ended with self-conversations. There is a hidden voice that guides me.
Silence is space, I agree. It's also a pause, a momentary check on feelings and emotions.
"Can you hear it" I asked.
"I can understand your silence and I can hear it, too" she said.
"My silence is so hidden from the world and yet you say you can hear it"
"Your silence is just a reflection of your own self, niks"
This is beginning to look comfortable and more easy. If it really is so beautiful, then why can the world not see it, why is that I get hurt when the words d'nt come. Living my life is like flipping thru the pages of a book, pausing at the end of each page, the noise of the ruffled papers breaking my isloation before I go back into my comforting shell again.
"Thank you 'S', for holding my hand and making me walk through life."
Why can I not tell her what I think? I have really nuthing to hide, nuthing to escape from, does my silence mean anything, or does it not? I cannot capture the thoughts that surround my mind; I cannot decorate them up. Just like the morning sun, I cannot hold my thoughts in my fist and neither can I define them. I must say something that might help us answer the questions that are now beginning to bother her.
"Can you understand silence"? I asked.
"Silence according to me is space to reflect and think" she said.
There are simple things in life that make so much sense when you hear them from someone else. I have always had the urge to run back into my shell because of loss of words. There is a sudden longing to start conversing with myself, in the middle of a conversation, when I am at a loss of words. How do I tell you what I have just said to myself. Most of my journeys into the inside me have begun and ended with self-conversations. There is a hidden voice that guides me.
Silence is space, I agree. It's also a pause, a momentary check on feelings and emotions.
"Can you hear it" I asked.
"I can understand your silence and I can hear it, too" she said.
"My silence is so hidden from the world and yet you say you can hear it"
"Your silence is just a reflection of your own self, niks"
This is beginning to look comfortable and more easy. If it really is so beautiful, then why can the world not see it, why is that I get hurt when the words d'nt come. Living my life is like flipping thru the pages of a book, pausing at the end of each page, the noise of the ruffled papers breaking my isloation before I go back into my comforting shell again.
"Thank you 'S', for holding my hand and making me walk through life."
a very thought provoking post...well..u just said a lot which i guess many feel d same way including me.. u have a way wid words! if only people understood non-verbals sigh! will come back more gyaan..
ReplyDeleteBeautiful. I wish I had known this girl in school, then I would have learn writing skills from you rather than Mrs Keskar
ReplyDeleteKeshi
ReplyDeleteGreat to see you again! How are you? everything okay at your end?