The Silence That Spoke
For that one night I felt I was a man with No Balls !!!
I saw her trembling, I saw her trying to say something with the silence around her, even in the middle of a tube station with so many people walking by during rush hour and the announcements on the speakers there was a strange silence around her, a silence that I felt, a silence that said more than words could have said, the silence of beauty in an ugly world of reality, the silence that merged with the spatter of every rain drop, the silence that merged with the tap of every expensive shoe or a sandal up or down the stairs, the silence that broke all barriers of speech and simply said - "HELP ME".
I saw that her eyes were begging for help from every man that passed by, each wrinkle on her face told a story, its like how when you see a old woman you can tell by the way her wrinkles look whether she has had a happy satisfying life or whether each wrinkle is a line drawn on the surface of pain, misery, guilt and sometimes anger. And, I just walked right past her, like everybody else, all along the way I kept thinking how is she going to pass the night, will she be alright, she looks too pale to even get up, her fragile body seemed like the newspaper she was sitting on, the rain might just melt her into the paper draining away every chapter of her life with the ink that comes of paper when it is wet, as if nature was saying to her - "it is time", and every breath she took said - "one more day", she won't be able to take it, she is just too weak to bear the chill, and after the station is closed where is she going to find some shelter?? She might be able to find a roof or a shed under the outdoor of any road side cafe but no matter what the rain will get to her, the wind will force that thin sheet off exposing her body to nature. I am sure she was not wearing any clothes underneath that thin sheet and I could imagine the state she would have to go through if the rain did not stop.
I had just got off the train and was walking out of the station to my way home, and before I even reached the exit I knew the rain was too hard and like me there were others waiting for it to slow down, and as I stood there I felt the water under my feet, and I rushed to a dryer spot not to spoil my expensive leather shoes I wear to work, and as the thought of luxury lifestyle collided with the thoughts of a human soul on the mercy of whether it stopped raining and someone gave her a pound to eat, I was taken over by guilt, by humiliation, by anger, by anguish, by disgust, by pain, by sadness and at this moment I could feel my eyes filled with tears that quickly disappeared in the wet face and I realized We I might have big words to write on my blog, I might have views against injustice and against poverty, I might feel sad & depressed at the state of humanity but,at the end of it I am a small yet a BIG part of the sick behavior of every human that passed the old lady. Men with their fancy cellphones and sophisticated accents, with their expensive clothes & their pseudo-secular views and yet no one saw the mirror in the eyes of the woman who probably might not survive the night.
And, by the night I went off to sleep after the real good meal I had and the cozy duet I was to lie in and for one moment I threw the blanket(duet) off me, I buried my face in the pillow and yelled as loud as possible, I simply lied facing the ceiling while I could hear the rain pour down heavily outside and the gushing of the wing against the tree in the front lawn, I probably lied there for just over five minutes and I got up to pick up my duet because I was feeling the chill, and I thought to myself if nature made me a slave of the warmth of the duet and the bed, I am happy to be a slave because a few miles away on a deserted street by now is a woman who is not fortunate enough to be a slave, a beautiful face that will haunt me every time it rains this hard, a face that probably had turned my love for the rainfall into a feeling of sadness & pain every time is rains now.
I may be man enough to make money, or man enough to be in power, man enough to drink alcohol & sometimes even brag about it, or man enough to talk of justice & equality, but I am certainly not man enough to save or help a small yet a beautiful part of humanity.
I am a mere prisoner of my own world,
To define roughly I am a human,
To live - I am bonded,
To exist - I am just a specie,
I feel only after I am feed...
I am just as human as you are,
The Question Is:
How human are you ????
And, for the rest of the night the silence spoke for itself..
Source : http://10pintsandacurry.blogspot.com/2009/11/silence-that-spoke.html
