Awkward-Silence

Sometimes they are just noises, sounds dangling in your ears, sounds that make no sense to you sounds that are so loud that you might just get a heartache out of them. It is strange how I am never part of these sounds how I am always at the receiving end sulking and waiting. Sometimes I see a rage in me a burning fire a rage that wants to cut across a passage right through these sirens and alarms and batteries and go to vacuum. Vacuum where I can hear myself sing where I can hear myself cry. Have you ever tried to derive sense out of the fracas, boom, wohoo, quack-quack, psh-psh-psh, mew, jug-jug? I think these sounds will be a mystery for me forever and always. They have this term called awkward silence I find it really hilarious. I mean what are they saying? Is it that the sounds have become so much a part of them that now they find silence awkward? I wonder what will be awkward in future full stops and commas? Sometimes I wish I was born mute or maybe what if the world was mute, NO SOUNDS. How sane that would have been? Alas! This world is not a movie and I ain’t no movie star. While writing this sitting in my class I was reminded of a few lines which I read in my school by Pablo Neruda from the poem keeping quite…

if we could do nothing for once,

perhaps a great silence would

interrupt this sadness,

this never understanding ourselves

and threatening ourselves with death,

perhaps the earth is teaching us

when everything seems to be dead

and then everything is alive.

Now I will count to twelve

and you keep quiet and I'll go.

How much hollow our lives are from the inside? How much are we hiding under the toe? How much of pain are we keeping below that beautiful speech?

Think about it

Now I will count to twelve

and you keep quiet and I'll go.