It’s pitch dark outside. I get out of my comfort zone and step into the reality. The balcony pulls me towards it. It’s like the night wants to make love to me, desperately. It’s hunger, and greed is adorable. I stand there. Still. The extreme silence, making me vulnerable, shaking my ground.
No, I’m not scared. I’m just confused.
Or maybe the big, bad, boldness really does scare me. It makes me rethink my entire point of existence.
It makes me ecstatic. it snaps me back to earth. It tells me to stop being in cloud-9 and so pretty in pink. The silence is beautifully married to an not so occasional rush of air, flowing through my face, tickling my hair, innocently.
The enormity of the planet shows my nullifying presence. I have my own secret talks to the wind. It’s all surreal and I’m simply left to gasp it all. Yeah. Maybe, its gigantic bear-like actions scares me. But it also makes me fall in love with it, even more.
i have my ‘sweet nothings’ moments with the silence. I cry to the silence, the silence lends me a shoulder, and is a great listener. The silence is just like another buddy. A buddy for life. And this friend is incredibly loyal, and causes no tantrums and breakups.
Men may be from Mars and women from Venus, but silence is our very own. Silence is exotic to earth. It’s a guest in my city. And morals says ‘Atithi Devo Bhava.’ But just as PS2 replaced football, coolness (SWAG) replaces morals.
And now silence is sad. Upset. Because it’s no more a guest. No more invited. It can no more come, prior permission, which are measly. Life is short, maybe just a hundred years, for this eternal friend, silence.
And now its time. Time for silence to go. It’s unrequested, unrequited now. It’s soul sobs from within, slowly reaching frantically for a death-bed. For the moment has arrived. It’ll leave us soon. We must grasp it before it’s gone.
That is life.