There was a time when I was a young boy when I fought silence. Perhaps, it was a sign of things to come. I don’t really know. I never found silence. I fought it. I didn’t look for it. If it ever approached, I allowed the noises in my head to escape into the open in the form of laughter, music or just words muttered under my breath. We become a version of our parents at some point. Yes, I think we do. We fight it when we are young with taut flesh and an air of invincibility and self-made promises to not turn out like our parents, but it happens. Again, we fight it. It was the old photographs that I looked at. My mother; always covering her laughter with her hand whenever she could, but she laughed. She smiled often, but there were moments when she truly laughed. The hands don’t cover her mouth and it’s a grin at best these days. A hint of a smile, I think. I see it within myself. The laughter faded a long time ago. I don’t know when. I smile though. Artificial mostly, but the smiles are there; rehearsed so well that it convinces others that it reaches my eyes and reflects the calm in my soul. Life offered the perfect training. The smiles continue, but silence began to surround me. Again, I don’t remember when exactly, but it was at a time when it rained. I sat outside and felt the rain on my flesh. That’s all I remember. This wasn’t calm; a calm that you reach through prayer and meditation. This was chaos; anarchy of the soul, but only silence witnessed on the surface. I am not a prisoner to silence. It has befriended me. Perhaps, it feels sorry for me. I don’t want it to, but it’s hard to explain to someone that you keep company with silence when your soul lives in turmoil. Silence befriends me and I am grateful.
Navin E. (grateful for silence)
