My Silence

This cuboid room has harboured me for a long time, and it is beyond assumption that I do not seek refuge anywhere else except here, most of my days go without any mortal company, hence its just me and my bovine walls. Similar to my terms of circumstances, are the walls behind one of the doors, leading to the other room. The other rooms of the house have been deprived of conversation for a very long time, the cause being lack of visiters, and by now I contemplate, they must have forgotten their dialect altogether. There's another door which leads to the verandah: my teacher. The verandah opens up in sudden limitless fury to the skies, the bold superlative unostentatious skies, throwing all variations of expresions through climatic and weather changes. I love the skies for they never cease to speak, their voice can be heard all across the ages. And they hold my imagination particularly because they do not confabulate, their wisdom is himalyan, and their wisper, the sound of a thousand saints, of unquarelous eternity. Each cloud has the capability to answer a new question in the most inarticulate and most expressive manner.

On one such thought provoking, lurid day, as I was gearing my thoughts for another battery of questions; there was a gentle knock on the door. Much to my excitement I jumped and opened the door, only to find empty air standing there, and the walls turned to me in the laziest manner contemplatable, and I would not be surprised if they would have cursed me then for making them turn; but the fact of the matter remains that there was no one at the door. I turned and banged the door behind me, and gave up on any clandestine who or wht? no giving way to the dellima of imagination. case closed! Seconds later there was another knock, this time though a timid one, even gentler, quite an unsure knock. It was now that i realised that it did not come from the door inside, but from the door leading to the veranda. Are you surprised? I was! but I was only surprised and not afraid so out of sheer inquisitiveness i opened the door - only to find empty space and fatigued skies. R u Surprised? I wasent! Being a hot summer day, the sun, itself drenched in sweat was gradualy being quenched of its ever-so glorious flaming powers; tired of buring all through the day, it planned to extinguish and retire. The clouds werent much shady and seemed to have made excess love and lay distant on the sky bed, too tired to look at each other. There still lay a question seducing an answer which lay hidden in some unknown force too minute for reality and too obscure for imagination. There being no angel outside all that lay to uncover from anonimity needed a certain amount of observation. Who Kocked The DOOR?

Scanning the marble floor and then one corner and then the other, I saw only dry leaves and some dried bonsaies here and there in small mud vessels, ants playing chain games and parading to an undisclosed destination. In one corner, by the shade of the wall sat a pegion, looking stoned with the maculate arid heat. It sat unmoved looking at me, with as curious eyes as my own, big and bold. Lying in the shade like an admiral hiding frm his comrades in the house of his mistress. Could it have been the visitor?

I apologise but I am not much of a nature person, though to be honest I have no grudges or misunderstandings with it, its just that I live in a metropolitan city, and nature has long evacuated this land. I have never been ignorent of its immense and imaculate powers, but the fact lies that it has been ignorent of me, it devoured this city of its favour long ago when men learned to be greedy and started worshiping the lust for materialistic and monetary belongings. I though, have felt the beauty of it through books and films and through hightened imaginations, I have read the poetry of flowers and trees and breezes and much liked the feel of those imaginary gifts on my skin : but I am not entiteled to witness it in person with naked eyes as I live here.

When one has such deprived powers of understanding of nature, all gaps of comunication between beast and birds are broadened. The pegion looked with silent eyes, corners filled with expectation. I did not have any knowledge of comunicating with such organisms and thus was left to my instinct. Motioning it to wait with my hand (as if it understood, but still!), went inside to fetch some water, assuming that to be the centre of inquiry. Moments later returning, placed it in front of the pegion, fearing to scare it away returned to the door with slow haste. Mr.Pegion took a couple of beak dances into the pot and returned me with the same look he had been carrying. Was I wrong in my contemplation of its need? I wonder. Out of the infinite ways of communication, I choose to speak to erase all bonds of physical distinctness.

"My apologies with you my friend but I fail to recognise your need and my unruled mind can not reconstruct any structure of want of yours from my being, I rather request you to plainly inquire and if it shall be in my capabilities I shall diliver without hesitation", trying to sound formal. Returned by the same look but a little more weiry.

"Dont you have friends, I have very rarely seen any of you alone like this?". This did stir some chord in his orchestra, for he moved closer. I went on with my verbal dysentry, for when a man has not had company for long and does not fall into the category of a loner, erupts like mount zeus upon recieving one. I asked him questions which could have had only verbal answers, but to my surprise, a companion with silence as his gift, presents more tolerable and less pitiable answers then those with them. Amazement comes very often to people who seek it, in their unconscience; I did not recognise the hour as i went on with my monotone and recieved languid silence for answers. Soon enough the sun was perched at the lowest point and was almost deprived of all its flames and looked like a vermilon mark on a beautiful forehead, and under it lay two wicked concrete eyes. I had quitened for some time now and the pegion walked up a little further by the end of almost an hour and a half and took off. Look at the courtious bird, it waited for my silence, look at this divine creature, it waited so not to insult a beast.

Much like myself I returned to my room, fell on my bed and meditated upon the incident and started writing about something that had been on my mind. The monotony of the day overtook me again and soon everything say in the lap of earth's shadow. The daily chores takeup quite a lot of one's time and so my dinner and deeds happened pricicely before I was about to sleep. I think my sleep is more punctual then anyother phenomena, it is so ruthlessly punctual that most times it arrives before its prescribed hour. The day was gone and dreams followed.

Apparently, the coming of this bird became a habitual thing. And every evening it would come by itself to make short or long conversation. Every evening it brought its silent answers and I confess now that I have had the most beautiful conversations with this soft feathered bird. We talked, how?; Any attempt to question the nature or dialect of the first person answer would end up in pure mind boggleing techniques, but that is nature, the simplest things about it are the toughest to understand. Why do we have to question so much. Can not one animal have a respectable and sanguine conversation, with another animal; Ok, bird!

Mr.Pegion or Perrora as I named it(I wonder if we social animals ever refrain from naming anything, I have named my aya fishface, because she has a face like a pyrana, and now the whole neighbourhood says she is fishy), had a wife and a family, his wife was taking care of newly delivered eggs and Perrora thought that the eggs looked very cute. His love for his family was quite heart touching. He flew all around the city and looked for food so his flock could feed and that is how he earned a big name amongst them and lived of his own. His vertual dislike for his fellowbirds was because of their narrow nature and lack of learning. His flock which I presumed like most other flocks were only interested in eating and nothing else, hense wisdom was not a part of their understanding and parrora always stood out. He also informed me about the various methods of weather focast, which unfailingly have helped me to this date. But I shall deny to share that information for it was quite out of secrecy that he thaught me all that.

What he learned from me would in short be put as nothing, but he kept coming. His repetitive visits ofcourse brought some form of conversation in my life and so he was quite welcome. But he amazed me with the fact that he always came alone, never once with neone, upon my insisting to bring his wife, he hoarded the request aside, for fear of too many people coming to have my food, which I said was not a problem. But he never did. Perrora was a far better person if I may call him so, then most two legged beasts I have seen. He sang with the wind and flew amongst the stars, yet he held his head firm on the ground. A great companion as he was. But something was not right. He was not happy. He was running from something, something that I could not contemplate. He was afraid of something. His wife and his children, were there but they were not there. neither were mine. They left me long ago. Left me to myself and my walls and my skies and everything in the wide world but them. Perrora was afraid of this feeling. I am not sure but he was.

True to his word, he never brought a single friend along with him. But one fine evening he came and knocked. It was very different this time. He came with the wind, swaying like death itslf and knocked upon my door. I am not sure if all of it was a dream but I could hear him talk and he made me promise him that whatever mistakes I made, I would not make them again. He made me prominse him that I would love my family in my next life and I did! I did; I swore and tears ran down my cheeks and I missed my baby's voice in the house, and in a flash I knew that the walls wernt bored they just missed the child they had supported. I had not only given up on my family, I had taken away a lot from this house aswell. I was the factor, and all along I had made only one friend, only one, near my end, before falling to the ground because of heart failure, I realised, just one friend in all my life, Mr. Perrora; MY SILENCE!!!