Tuesday, July 31, 2007

Silence And Its Persian Accent [fiction]

The clanking, clashing and clattering of cups and plates slowly faded as we strolled further away from the canteen. Our promenade started finally, and the sun, as if jealous of the smiles on our face, immediately started burning the back of our necks. The comments started right away: “Let us observe, scrutinize and examine; let us share this experience with each other…”

I started walking faster, seeking the silence of those green beings who would provide us an escape from the scorching sun. Oh! They all looked so old: coarse bodies that have been standing there in all their majesty for centuries altogether; their darkened brown roots holding a firm grip into the ground and the wrinkled cracks that Nature made in their trunks seemed likely to remain there forever, never to be restored to new attire.

Fragments of words in a Persian accent reached my ears: “Creativity, express, inspiration…” Our stroll would turn out to be a treasure hunt: golden silence in a hidden chest. I started walking faster, they started walking faster, but even he started walking faster. The monkeys lost their heads and cried in despair.

“Oh! Just keep quiet!” she finally shouted. She was about to blow his head apart, and make him freeze out there just like all the monkey-without-heads dustbins. “You have to keep quiet and only then will you be able to observe. Just be silent, and observe!”

Our ears were at once tickled by the sound of water flowing, and a distant chirping of birds. The distortions on her face disappeared: her two eye-brows that had come together as one now parted from each other and took back their original place. Her nostrils came to peace and stopped their slight throbbing each time she inhaled and exhaled. The slight prominence of her jaws vanished and her pressed nicotine lips that had looked smaller than usual relaxed, went back to their normal size, and the expression on her face betrayed an almost imperceptible smile of satisfaction.

It seems our treasure had been found! We started walking in silence, accompanied by the cacophony of our footsteps. Our shoes trod on stones, leaves and muck, and sometimes, a splash of water would add to the dissonance. I wasn’t too content with the grandness of the trees… The triangular, round, square, oval leaves… The olive-green, bottle-green, jade-green… The Rahuls and Radhikas carved in wood and put to display as works of art… I wanted more adventure.

“Let us go to the main building,” I said. “There may be a treasure waiting to be found out there!”

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