Silent World

I could see it all. The tall guy charging towards the poor man with all his fury. The impatient crowd of passerbys waiting in anticipation at the prospect of some free of cost vicarious pleasure. The shopkeeper stopping his calculations midway and getting out of the store for a better view. The motorist braking suddenly and then peering over the crowd. And then the poor man himself, his face showing a million colours of fear. I watched as the blow landed on his face, distorting it slightly. I stopped my photography brain from thinking about the high speed camera possiblities of this moment. I saw him opening his mouth and screaming wild. I didn't hear anything. Not the sound of the crowd, not the scream of the man, not the engines of the passing vehicles. It was like watching a mime. Yes, I am a member of the species called the 'ipod generation'. The turn of the millennium saw the birth of our generation. White wires coming out from the pockets, moving all the way up our body to our ears differentiate us from the previous generations. We've it plugged on everywhere, in the bus, at the restaurant, in office, in the closet, just about everywhere. Its just like a part of our body. And for us, the world is like what you saw in the above scene, silent.

As I woke up the next day, the music was still going on, as I usually keep a long playlist. And as usual, I didn't hear mom's calls to wake up and drink coffee. Yes, a cold coffee is one of the obvious happenings in our silent world. But I do argue with mom on the dust prevention capabilities of the earphone. 'A little dust wont make you deaf, but this plug can do that', she used to say. Taking a bath was not one of my favorite things, as it takes me out from the silent world. As I walked out in the shabby jeans, grandma had a puzzled look on her face. A relic from the past's disdain of youthful brashness or whatever it is. I didn't hear her coughing hard and asking me to buy some medicines. I saw her lips moving as I wheeled out my bike, but as I said earlier I hate to get out of the silent world. I gave 2 more kicks after the engine started. The kicker is used to that. The big doberman next door was wagging his tail and barking silently as I rode on.

Today am not in a mood to go to office. And what I do in those moments is head to the beach. Today was no different. The sun was hiding behind the clouds and so the sand was not smoking hot as was the usual case at this time. I sat there and looked around. Barring a man who was sitting far away on the rocks, the beach was deserted. What else do you expect to see on a working day in a not so famous beach, I asked myself. These questions which I ask myself are the only things I hear because these dont need the ears to hear. The waves were crashing against the rocks a little far away. Today, my silent world is having a lot of noise, all coming from inside me. The sea always stirs up my thoughts. Yesterday's scenes had shaken me a bit. Now I know how silent movies made an impact back in the 1920s. I sat there thinking about the general aloofness of our generation. How easily we turn our backs to other's sufferings. How easily we close our eyes to injustice. Less said about our perpetually closed ears, the better.

All the thinking was starting to drive me nuts. The sea was not providing me any solace today. I walked back to my bike and thats when I saw the man sitting on the rocks, the poor man who got beaten badly yesterday. There were bruises all over his face and it was evident that he didn't clean it or dress it up. I stared for sometime and then walked on with the same coldness that has come to symbolize our geneation. Kick. Start. Zoom. Again, on the endless highway. The mind was still disturbed. Thoughts collide into each other and create unwanted noise in my perfect world. A mind not used to thinking was finding this hard. I didn't see that big tanker lorry coming in the wrong side. The thoughts stopped colliding as the world around me stopped for an instant. The bike flew up in the air as I was flung head first on to the footpath. I saw blood. I saw red. I screamed. I didn't get any response from the silent world. My eye lashes almost met, for the final time. I saw someone walking by. A flicker of hope. I strained hard to look up to his face. He didn't turn. I could make out that familiar white wire. Yes, he belonged to the ipod generation. The owner of a mind, as cold as my now cold dead body...

pic courtesy-wired.com

your crusader Praveen