the comfortable silence.
On a lovely Sunday afternoon, he inquired, out of utter worry perhaps, as I am very seldom quiet,
“Love?”
“Yes?” I said.
“What you thinking of?” he probed further.
“Nothing much, really. Just how sleepy I am”, was all I replied.
And I let our conversation fall at that, while my eyes squinted against the hot scorching Sunday sun. I have always been afraid of silence. Especially ones which are deafening. Especially ones in rooms and cars, when there's nothing and no one apart from us two.
But, much as I hate it, I anticipate and (sometimes) initiate it with an open heart. At some point in our lives, we’re bound to run out of things to say. Or even if we don’t, we’re bound to not want to talk, just because.
But I realised that that particular silence did not fall into a deafening silence. It just never came. It’s as if we both agreed wholeheartedly, without saying a word, that that was the moment. That was the moment when presence alone sufficed. It was enough to know that I was there and so was he. We didn’t need to say anything. Or do anything much. We could just sit there together staring blankly into space and let the silence envelope us.
We learnt that day that we could (finally) fall into a comfortable silence. And that it felt nice. That it sufficed. That silence doesn’t always have to be a negative thing. Silence is indeed a force to be reckoned with.
I have established that with my blog also. I have established the fact that there are some things way too personal to share. And that some things go layers and layers deep into my feelings and thoughts that they become feeling upon thoughts upon feeling. Something like the movie, Inception, if you like, only it’s not dreams we’re talking about, it’s feelings.
And though I used to be the “bare it all” type, I don’t think I am anymore. I know that scribbling my most intimate thoughts and most personal ones would probably only magnify its magnitude, making it seem far too big; bigger than it actually is. And worst, it’ll just immortalise moments, which we don’t necessarily want to remember in retrospect.
True that life isn’t always flowery and nice. There are times when we have to deal with being at the bottom of the bottom. But I guess my blog and I would continue to sit tight-lipped about it until it passes. After all, what good is it to be so stressed out about the things we can no longer change?
Sometimes, we try to the best of our abilities, but we still fail. But only for that time. So, the only way to go is to get up and have another try. And I guess the only way for us to do that is well... by keeping a comfortable distance from stress itself.
Then, perhaps, that gruesome moment would pass and we would be able to move on.
And believe you me, there are times when the best messages are delivered through the comfort of a comfortable silence.
“Love?”
“Yes?” I said.
“What you thinking of?” he probed further.
“Nothing much, really. Just how sleepy I am”, was all I replied.
And I let our conversation fall at that, while my eyes squinted against the hot scorching Sunday sun. I have always been afraid of silence. Especially ones which are deafening. Especially ones in rooms and cars, when there's nothing and no one apart from us two.
But, much as I hate it, I anticipate and (sometimes) initiate it with an open heart. At some point in our lives, we’re bound to run out of things to say. Or even if we don’t, we’re bound to not want to talk, just because.
But I realised that that particular silence did not fall into a deafening silence. It just never came. It’s as if we both agreed wholeheartedly, without saying a word, that that was the moment. That was the moment when presence alone sufficed. It was enough to know that I was there and so was he. We didn’t need to say anything. Or do anything much. We could just sit there together staring blankly into space and let the silence envelope us.
We learnt that day that we could (finally) fall into a comfortable silence. And that it felt nice. That it sufficed. That silence doesn’t always have to be a negative thing. Silence is indeed a force to be reckoned with.
I have established that with my blog also. I have established the fact that there are some things way too personal to share. And that some things go layers and layers deep into my feelings and thoughts that they become feeling upon thoughts upon feeling. Something like the movie, Inception, if you like, only it’s not dreams we’re talking about, it’s feelings.
And though I used to be the “bare it all” type, I don’t think I am anymore. I know that scribbling my most intimate thoughts and most personal ones would probably only magnify its magnitude, making it seem far too big; bigger than it actually is. And worst, it’ll just immortalise moments, which we don’t necessarily want to remember in retrospect.
True that life isn’t always flowery and nice. There are times when we have to deal with being at the bottom of the bottom. But I guess my blog and I would continue to sit tight-lipped about it until it passes. After all, what good is it to be so stressed out about the things we can no longer change?
Sometimes, we try to the best of our abilities, but we still fail. But only for that time. So, the only way to go is to get up and have another try. And I guess the only way for us to do that is well... by keeping a comfortable distance from stress itself.
Then, perhaps, that gruesome moment would pass and we would be able to move on.
And believe you me, there are times when the best messages are delivered through the comfort of a comfortable silence.
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