Most of you who know me in real life know that silence and me do not go hand in hand. We’re poles apart. I’m fidgety and always mostly talking about three different topics at once. To be calm, to actually listen, to be silent – these are things that I could never make my peace with.
I’d fill my silences up. With the T.V. blaring random songs, with music constantly running on the phone if not the T.V. With chatter over the phone if none of these.
These days though, I hardly switch on the T.V. I hardly even touch my phone if not for work – and I really really have started to appreciate the blissful silences in my life.
I used to be scared of silence before, forever scared of thundering footsteps, of doors slamming, of my own voice, losing it’s sweetness and turning into a vile, vindictive screechy one. Of even the sound of a curtain slowly fluttering.
In the midst of typing this post out, the shrill jarring sound of my phone ringing irritated me – and then, I faced the worst fear a mother would wish upon herself – I heard a stranger tell me my daughter’s fainted and is having difficulty breathing. Everything was on auto pilot then – booking a cab, figuring out the nearest hospital to the school, frantic calls to make sure she’s okay constantly, through this.
And then I sat in the cab, in Bangalore traffic – wanting to somehow transcend time and just appear next to her – see her, and I touched my phone, wanting to call a friend – the thoughts that were spiraling needed to be voiced. But then, I remained silent – kept the phone back and tried to breathe through what seemed like a century but was only ten minutes.
And then I realized silence is not my enemy. Not anymore. Silence is a friend now. It engulfs me and hugs me and comforts me. Tells me there is nothing wrong with the world. Tells me it’s all going to be okay – only if I silence the rambling.
P.S. She fainted because she was too excited talking about her day that she didn’t have lunch. She’s fine now 🙂 The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.