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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2034539-The-Sounds-of-Silence
Rated: 13+ · Other · Other · #2034539
Silence, too, has a voice...
Before I begin my story, I think I should give you an introduction, else you might wonder why on earth a dumb person like me has started a narrative. I assure you that it’s not a cock-and-bull story. And I said just now that I’m a dumb person, didn’t I? I am, quite literally. I was diagnosed with a speech defect when I was two years of age; and by the time I was six, my tongue fell silent for ever. That may well not be a serious problem to you well-versed people. But I’m no Helen Keller, and this was more than a curse to me. Presently I lead quite a simple life, earning my living by painting signboards. Three months ago, however, something set me at a new pace. (Okay, enough of introductions. Now please read on if you will.)
Right from my childhood I have suffered from a sort of insecurity, probably because of my impairment. Whatever the cause may be, this feeling used to haunt me day and night. I shied away from people and avoided attending celebrations, thus earning the epithet “unsocial”. In short, I was a person who lived in her own cocoon. A sort of depression always pervaded my mind; it was as if I was getting lost in an unfathomable abyss. But then one night, I had this dream.
The day had been long and tiring, and the first thing I did on reaching home was to throw myself down onto the bed without caring to undress. I fell asleep in no time at all. Little did I know then what was in store for me.
Maybe that’s why you call it a dream, but I saw an incredible sight. I saw god enter my derelict one-room apartment. He noiselessly walked (or did he glide?) across the room and sat down on my bed. “What is your problem, My child?” He asked me in a mild, musical voice.
My problem? He was asking me about my problem? Couldn’t He see what my problem was? Emotions bubbled up in me as I said (I was dreaming, mind you, and I was sure of that), I do have a problem, God. You know what it is.”
Even in the dream, I was amazed. I had a voice. It was hoarse and faint from the lack of use, but still a voice. A warmth spread to every corner of my frame. Then I heard His divine voice again.
“Do not worry, my child. Everyone has to face a trial at least once in his life. It is only that you did in so tender an age. Anyway, you never lost faith in Me, so I’ll reward you. And I’ll leave you a token too, to signify that I really did visit you. Here…” He slipped a beautiful ring onto the fourth finger of my right hand.
But I had a question still. “What reward?”
“You gave Me your love. So I give you the symbol of mine—Death. For three more months from this third of July you bear with this world. Then you shall have your reward.”
Right now I am staring at the calendar on the wall, the ring still glistening on my finger. Today is the third of October.

© Copyright 2015 Aratrika Ratri Chatterjee (ratrichatt at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2034539-The-Sounds-of-Silence