Silence in Moments
‘How was your day?’ asks one.
And you look on the floor with legs up on the couch.
‘How did your day go?’ comes the voice again.
You turn your face and look at the voice, staring in the eyes. You choose silence.
‘How is your life going?’ haunts the voice again.
You turn your face away, and in a second, fear in your heart is triggered. You look above at the ceiling and then down.
The voice comes close and moves its hand on your back, ‘tell me how is going?’
You wonder what to say.
The voice grows intimate, ‘You have my heart.’
And you fall back in silence of tears.
In the given moments when the heart feels lost, entrapped by the dark horizons, we cry. The same moment gives birth to conflict. Whom do we have to share our tears? Whom do we have to share what moves us? We cry and spit tears. What for? Whom for? Only we know. Do we have anyone to share? Is that sharing even worthwhile? Who feels like we do? In there a harmony in our miseries? Can someone be compassionate about our miseries, and hold our head against theirs and whisper, ‘We will cry together.’
If only every time we cry and have someone to console, the tears will lose their meaning and so will the silence. Perhaps, the greatest luxury one can afford is to have a corner in one’s heart where you can hide and wipe the never-ending tears.
It’s a lonely battle amidst the dreams of our heart. But in dire desperation, we seek another heart who assists ours and yet we are afraid of harming that another heart if it goes to battle without miseries. This conflict breeds a long silence in moments. And we refrain. We hibernate and let go of anything that touches our heart. In the mechanism of defense, we choose silence. And yet a howl whispers in our heart to seek that touch which soothes our existence.
Wrenching as it may seem, our life has a meaning if only we have one another heart with whom we share the crying corners of our heart. Envious, we all are of the moments where the heart chooses silence so that we can sigh and breathe. But who will share our sigh, and our exasperation, and our silence? Why should one be morbid because of us? This breeds the conflict which makes us who we are.
To listen to any heart, we must listen the whispers of silence. Questions are answered in most brave manner through silences. But are we listening compassionately enough? This is the conflict. Still, we seek another heart whose silence we want to hear and yet are always in doubt whether we are listening with all our heart. Faces pass by us, and mysteries remain to unravel what’s beneath those faces. All faces sad and morose which exemplify life tempt us. Are those faces compassionate enough to listen to our silences? It’s a question whose answer we seek but never really want to feel. As silence in moments pass us by, hearts pass us by – some drain our soul while some light up the fire within.
Afraid, we all are of the silences yet deep down those moments are what we seek. And we twist and turn our hearts to look everywhere to keep our lives occupied. We all know that there is more to life than merely being occupied. Yet, afraid, we all are to accept it in search of silences.
An ideal of a long walk is one, where two people walk in silence; understanding each other’s heart in silence, feeling each other’s touch in silence, hearing each other’s silence in silence. It sure will be a tough walk. But it will be enough make people believe in love’s silence.
People must always talk and then go quiet. The heart reflects then about what lay inside. It allows the heart to accept that we all are alone. A realization then shall dawn upon the heart – we do need someone to share our silence in moments.
