A FIRE WAS BURNING. We were terrorized. The crowd was in frenzy. Everybody seemed to be asking, “How did this happen? Who is to blame?” Replies came as sparks, “They did it”, “It’s him”, “Hit him”, “Beat them up”…. Flames, fumes and wrath filled the space… suffocating destruction was engulfing us as we screamed and ran frantically like a bunch of lunatics. Only the little girl, Silence, stood aside, tears streaming down her cheeks. She knew the answer, but nobody asked her for it, because her name was silence. Silence never speaks where commotion reigns. But, she had the answer.
No, I did not recognize silence on that day of gloom and destruction. I discovered her much later, one summer afternoon when I was lazing alone on the grass on the bank of Lake Eire. She was humming softly, with a sweet smile on her face. Stretching my ears, I heard, “Be gentle, be soft. Don’t let the trifles in life upset you. Feel the tranquility of the lake within yourself.” Yes, she was right! I could feel the calmness! “Silence, why didn’t you tell us this on that fated day? You were there then.” “You never asked” came the answer.
Her personality charmed me. It was instant love. I kept looking for her till I again met her at a small village inPurulia. She was sitting under the old Banyan tree. “How long have you been here?” I asked her. “I’ve always been here. You can stay on too, but you’ve got to be patient.” “Learn to give and wait for no return, like this huge tree … she asks for nothing for the shade & shelter she has been giving to us for ages. Patience will give you peace” “Silence, you are wonderful!” I blurted out.
We became fast friends. She kept beckoning me, I kept looking for her. Chatting with her was always a treat. There she was when I looked out of my bedroom window, dancing merrily with the young maple leaves against the clear blue sky in spring. Like me, a tiny squirrel was also waiting for her, in a small hole in the tree trunk. Silence talked a lot of blissful joy that spring morning at Dunkirk.
By now she had divulged a secret to me. Aloft the sky, she could always be found. Now I knew, looking up, I could always see her smiling at me. We started a new game. Up in the sky I saw her in new dresses every time. In her beautiful black shimmering dress on a star studded midnight sky at Purulia, or a sunset sky over the St Laurence River where she had spilt her colour palate on her dress, spreading red, yellow, orange, purple and blue all-over, she would always talk of her sister, ‘Eternity’. She actually introduced me to Eternity on these wonderful occasions.
I invited her to my place. But, a shy girl, she would only drop in at dawn, when the bleeding hearts bloomed, to say Good Morning. Smiling at the pretty flowers, she would say, “Endure your own pain, but never cause pain to others. The Bleeding Heart bleeds to bloom, to give you pleasure. Love and endurance is the magic word of Nature. That is why Mother Nature thrives on, through thick and thin and is always smiling.”
Last week it was along day I spent with Silence, at Shenandoah. As we drove through the mountains, a long 100 miles through solitude and beauty, she constantly kept company, pointing out the depth of blue in the layers of mountain ranges ahead, the tranquil enormity of the lofty hills. Yes, she was right, eternal peace and harmony reined in the mountains and valleys, through which the clouds gently breezed through. The bold stature and the undaunted stance of the tall peaks quietly seemed to instill a unique strength of tenacity into one: a strength that rises out of Truth and conviction.
“ Mountains stand for Truth and strength” she whispered in my ears.
That reminds me of another enchanting experience with her in the mountains. It was up in the hills of Arunachal Pradesh, where Silence would sing a wonderful humming tune. Straining our ears, we used to hear the tinkling of the temple bells all around, as if Mother Nature was performing arati to deify the Almighty. I still wonder where she got that heavenly melody! Was it from the tiny cricket like insects in the woods?
Now Silence visits me regularly, morning and evening, in the little corner of my room they call my Thakur Ghar, but I call a chat room. Its here I get to chat with Silence. She keeps explaining how love, patience, endurance, truth—all are manifestations of the Divine. The Divine we tend to search for, but cannot reach because of the haze created by the ‘sound and fury’ of life. Silence, I’m grateful to you, you let me get a glimpse of the truth! Oh Silence, don’t leave me, or I wont be able to get that glimpse again!
Last night I met her again, at a very unusual place, at an International Airport, at the strike of midnight. Lots of people, lots of colours, lots of religions, all walking through their own tracks, with no commotion, no conflicts & no controversies. At that late hour one thing was common to all that was weariness. So a faint smile or a gesture of accommodation was the only communication between the transit passengers. Here again, the world met together, but there was no scourge, no sting, no scoff. Silence, you were standing there, in the midst of all, with a gleaming smile, at that wee hour!
But then, why didn’t you speak on that fated day, Silence? You know we all need you, only that most of us aren’t quite acquainted with you. Why didn’t you come forward to put the fire out? Poor thing, you are such a shy and sensitive person, you withdraw from all commotion. And who ever lends an ear to the beautiful music of Silence?
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