This was me. Two nights ago. It was me, unlike me. I am known to be garrulous. I am extremely (in)famous for elevating the levels of irascibility of people close to me through my incessant chattering. I enjoy talking. I enjoy talking because I enjoy sharing. Unfortunately, for a really long period in life, I thought talking was the only way of sharing. I could not have been more wrong. Someone very special taught this to me.
This special someone is a very reticent person by nature. As a child, it was this very trait of his which irritated me most about him. When I grew up, I realized that this reticence was perhaps a strength which accentuated his personality like nothing else. He is a person I am veritably, crazily in love with. And he is one of those whose love is accessorized by a silent sharing of thoughts. My extremely special bond with him is carved out of sublime understanding sans words. Of late, what I have begun enjoying the most about us is our silent companionship- the deep knowledge that we're around each other even if we cannot hear each other.
'Silence is Golden'-we've all read this note prominently displayed in our school libraries. (My college library did not have one, they simply chucked us out if we as much as uttered a word). However, the silence which accessorizes love is better described as 'silver'. This silence lingers around you, helps you realize the value of your company, makes the thousand thoughts scurrying in the insides of your heart come to a rest, and still, it never ostentatiously stares you in the face. It, as I said, gently lingers around you. It is a comfort factor. Anyone with whom you don't share a comfortable relationship, you would never be able to share fond moments of silence with. Silence, then, might irk, for you would, most of the times, will be lost in a guessing game.
He's given me everything a real brother could have and should have. That too, sitting at a distance. I, proudly commanded a tiny portion of his first salary. He, even before it was in sight, promised me the first gift he would give out of his 'own' money. He looks after all my needs. A single phone call, and they are all answered. He'll never question me. He's is subtly protective of me; I, aggressively so. I can't have anything hurt him. At times I wish I never came to know of things not so fine in his life. Yet, whenever he shared things with me, gloomy or happy, I could not help but feel a little proud. Of all the people close to him, he chose me. Call me thrasonical. I'd still feel equally happy.
We talk a lot on phone, but forget how to interact once in each others company. What cannot be found amid chatter, is comfortably perceived in silence. It is through him I categorically understood how we need silence to touch the heart of people close to us. Most special moments of my life flashed behind my eyes. The feelings generated by them wafted upwards from where they were buried in my memory. And I felt happy. And thankful. Thankful for many special moments life has bestowed on me. Most thankful for the one when I walked a long distance holding the hand of a very special friend. We were talking, and I remember nothing of it. I only remember how it felt. True, people will not remember what you said or you did, but they'll always remember how you made them feel. Feelings like this are best assimilated when your lips are shut and your heart talks. Those feelings shimmered like silver through my eyes. Once again, I felt infinitely happy.
Silence makes the real conversation between friends. Not the saying but the never needing to say is what counts.
