Was the question I always wanted to ask him,
For somehow he wanted to draw words,sentences
and stories from my end.
To listen to my voice,even though I didn’t make sense
Most of the time.
He’d stand there gazing at me,a silent admiring gaze.
I’d go on speaking for hours,
He’d go on listening.
But if I stopped talking , if I didn’t utter those absurd things,
If I didn’t speak,if he didn’t get my voice in his ears, is when
He spoke – “say something?”.
Even though I don’t sing like Britney Spears,
He wants me to sing for him.
The last time I sang for him was on his birthday ;
Barely audible, He stood right next to me smiling and laughing ,
Gazing at me as I couldn’t sing ,
But was doing a Robotic recital of ‘happy birthday to you’.
Earlier if I wanted to say something I’d walk right up to him, tell him.
Give him a call,or text him.
I’ve stopped doing that,
My stories brewing up inside me,
Like coffee, the froth reaching to the brim
And then the very thought – he wouldn’t have enough time ,
Stirring in me.
I leave the stories wrapped in pages.
Sit down for a cup of coffee, froth reaching the
Brim makes me smile,wondering
How I learnt building dams?,
To hold my stories and emotions.
And how with every phone call of his, I fear will come a flood.
Just as I’m thinking ,the phone rings its him.
‘Silence’ a small word ,
Makes a big difference.
I live with it , He deals with it.
Every sentence of his,
Though no words match says – I’ll make it better, It’s going to be over ,But please -don’t be silent.
“ Say something ?” he’d say after every few sentences he spoke.
“ NOTHING” my reply.
‘Silence’ produces a loud noise ,loud enough
To make everything else inaudible.
He fears my ‘Silence’,
He despises it ,
Because he knows what silence does to me .
He knows how much I love to share,
But assuming ‘Silence’, I get engulfed in the overflowing
River of my thoughts and feelings.
Nearly drowning ,in my attempts to entrap them building a dam.
And he knows my’ Silence’,
And how I wish I knew what it does to him,that he hates it.
But I never ask ,
I’ve never asked ,
I’ll never ask.
I’ll probably just write about it.
– Samridhi Dutta ( © Samridhi Dutta)