Deafening Silence

“I am unable to sleep.”

“Why?”

“Can’t you hear? It’s raining.”

“Let me tell you a story.”

“May be a song would help.”

“Let me just shut up and you try to sleep.”

“In the morning, I was trying to wake up. Now, I have to try to sleep. Why do I always need to try?”

“It’s called inertia, my friend.”

“I call it hogwash. May be your story is better than your idle talk.”

“Ok. Don’t you dare sleep while I am at it. What was that?”

“A mouse may be. I think they are also interested in listening to you.”

“I think I might have gained a better audience.”

“Common! Story please.”

“Not too long ago, I went to my ancestral home. I had lost my job, thanks to the recession and was tired trying to get a new one for two months. I wanted to recompose, rejuvenate and get ready to take on the world with new zeal.”

“A loser might also sometime sound like a crusader.”

“Thanks. So, since I had no work and a lot of time at hand, it became my habit to go to the river bank in the evening and sit for hours. It was the time when all the boats returned after day’s work. There was a lot of din, sounds of coughing engines, people discussing their kill, coarse abuses flying in the air and suddenly, as soon as all the boats were fastened to the anchor, the sounds subsided. In a minute, the bank wore a deserted look and all you could hear was the water sloshing against the boat producing a continuous rhythm. It was so peaceful that you just needed to lie down in the cool sand and sleep would engulf you rather than you ‘trying to sleep’.

Anyways, one day I was sitting at the banks doodling in the sand with a stick. It was getting dark but I was enjoying the silence. Suddenly, I heard a muffled cry. I looked around. At first, I was unable to see anything and I again busied myself with my doodling. Then again after a minute or so, I heard it. This time it was louder and seemed to be nearer. I looked around but couldn’t make out anything in dark. A sense of unease was spreading all over me. And again, I heard it. A gentle moan but now it was coming from other direction. Now I could hear the cries clearly. I was sure that someone nearby was moaning gently.

I looked at the sky. It was getting darker. I wanted to make my way to home but somehow, I couldn’t. I don’t know why. I was shaken but not that much that I couldn’t move. It was as if some invisible force had kept me pulled down. I discovered that the stick has slipped somehow from my hands and the doodles have vanished from the sand. The wind seemed to have gained strength. I raised my head and saw all the boats tied at the banks gone. I looked around and saw all the trees surrounding the banks were nowhere. I had somehow been transported to some other place. A vast empty space. A solitude to be afraid of. I started shaking in my shoes. I cried for help. I started running. But there was nowhere to go. The emptiness was suffocating. The only sounds piercing it were the cries.

Soon, I got tired. I went towards the river and sat with a thud. I was unsure what to do next. I closed my eyes. A moan again. I opened my eyes and standing next to me was a woman in black attire with face so fair that it glowed against the darkness. Large eyes, pointed nose, flowing hair, she was beautiful and she was crying. “Who are you and why am I here?” I asked. She looked at me for a while and then continued crying. Normally, I would not be rude to a woman who is in such deep remorse but this was different. I was in some godforsaken place and I wanted answers so, to heck with it. Something overcame me. I pulled the woman down with her hair and kicked her. I asked her the same question again. Again she looked at me but continued crying. I was in fit of rage. I did beat her to pulp but it seemed it was some greater remorse that had engulfed her and she kept crying. I kept asking her continuously to tell me how to return to my place. I kept punching her on her face and pushed sand down her throat but the tears wouldn’t stop nor would she answer me. I climbed up on her and started strangulating her. At last, the tears did stop and she died with a smile on her face.

I sat behind her corpse not for long than I heard a muffled sound. I ran towards it. I saw a man in his forties in black attire crying softly. It was a handsome face, a kind face on which tears don’t look odd. I asked him the same question. He looked at me and kept crying. I slapped him but he didn’t react. I felt too insulted for being treated as an insignificant speck by the woman and now this man. Then I heard another cry. I ran towards it, then another and other. Soon, the bank was filled with women and men crying softly. I looked around and till the horizon, I saw people in black attires. The cries were now deafening. There were thousands of them, all beautiful men and women crying softly. I ran from one person to another but nobody answered my queries.

Soon, I was totally spent. I stood against the river and started crying. Tears started rolling down my cheeks. I was overcome by such grief that I was unable to stop. I stood there among thousands of people crying. I must have cried for years and then one day I saw this woman. She came towards me all confused and asked me to help her return. I couldn’t help her since I didn’t know the answer. I continued crying. She slapped me hard on my face but I didn’t react. I knew it couldn’t get worse than this. She kept on slapping me till it was difficult for me to stand. She jumped over my chest and choked me to death repeating the same question,”please tell me the way to my home?” But how could I have answered since I had no clue. Then I heard the coughing engines starting, coarse abuses flying about. I opened my eyes. It was morning and I was lying on the same bank. I could see my home at a distance.”

“Is it true?”

“Yeah, it is. What was that?”

“I don’t know.”

“It is a mouse.”

“I think someone is crying.”