Sounds of Silence

There are moments in life when we can only stand as silent witnesses, where compassion, empathy, and kindness become our only response.

I woke up at 3:30 AM, even though my alarm was set for 3:45 AM. I had to catch a flight at 6:30 AM and needed to get ready carefully and quietly without waking up my sleeping family. I must do my morning routine with absolute precision, like a trained thief in my own home.

I got out of bed slowly and quietly. I checked my phone, which was still asleep with the screen off, but I didn’t want to disturb it. I was determined not to make any noise or turn on any lights that might wake anyone. The only light I had to manage was a low-power dim lamp. Although it was a challenge, I had no choice but to prepare myself without waking anyone up. I carefully moved to the bathroom, being mindful of every action I took.

I went to the kitchen to make my usual tea, but to avoid any noise from opening the fridge or clanking utensils, I opted for just hot water with dip tea powder. It was an unfamiliar test, but silence demanded compromise. After finishing my tea, I headed to the bathroom to shave, taking extra care to avoid making any noise with the razor or tapping it against the sink. Once I finished shaving, I took a quick shower, again being mindful of the noise level. I made sure to close the bathroom door slowly to keep the sound under control. After drying off, I carefully opened my wardrobe and selected the clothes I wanted to wear for my early morning travel. I learned that precision and silence do not come with speed.

precision and silence do not come with speed.

While everyone in the house was asleep and I was almost ready, I remembered that I needed to use my regular body deodorant spray and talcum powder. However, realising that the fragrance might wake others up, I decided to avoid using them.

 

I’m all set. I’ll take my laptop bag, softly whisper to my wife about my departure, and press the small push-button lock before stepping out, ensuring the door locks from the inside. This is the last phase of my silent operation. Until now, I have successfully employed my stealthy skills.

As soon as I lifted the laptop bag, I didn’t realise it was unzipped, and my laptop fell out, crashing to the floor with a loud noise that woke both my mother and my wife. My wife asked what had happened, and I replied, “Nothing.” She then asked why I hadn’t turned on the light, and I remained silent.

My cab had arrived, and I always preferred to sit in the front seat. This way, I can easily talk to the driver, make use of my travel time, and avoid becoming too irritated if we get stuck in traffic. As usual, I took the front seat and opened the map app to check the route, but I quickly turned it off to conserve my phone’s battery. Nowadays, it’s not just about saving money while traveling; it’s also saving battery life on our mobile devices.

On our way, we had to pass through a toll gate. As my cab entered the toll lane, I suddenly noticed a poultry van in front of us, filled with crates of live chickens. It was painful for me to see the birds in such conditions, and I hoped the van would cross the toll booth first so that I could escape the sight. Once the van passed through the toll gate, I asked the driver to overtake it, and he agreed. I felt a bit relieved after that.

As we continued our journey, we reached a traffic signal about ten minutes later. Just as we approached, the light turned red. When I glanced out of my window—and there it was again, the same poultry van, slowly coming to a stop right beside my car. It all happened so quickly that I made eye contact with few birds inside the van. I realised they were staring at me, and I wondered if they were trying to convey something to me. Though I wanted to turn away my face, I couldn’t. The traffic signal was yet to turn green, and I couldn’t help but feel a deep sadness in my heart. I wondered if they knew what was about to happen to them.

The longer I looked into their eyes, the stronger I felt a connection with them. Their silent pleadings and obvious helplessness conveyed a profound sense of life’s fragility. But I knew there was nothing I could do. The traffic light turned green. While I had to take a right turn, I noticed that the van continued straight. As the van disappeared, a sense of helplessness washed over me, knowing that I was powerless to change it. The memory of those birds and the emotions they had stirred inside me would remain imprinted in my mind forever.

Happiness doesn’t only come from weekend getaways or planned vacations—it lives in the simple, fleeting moments we so easily miss.

In our fast-paced world, we often overlook life’s fragility. Happiness doesn’t only come from weekend getaways or planned vacations—it lives in the simple, fleeting moments we so easily miss. Cherish every moment, notice the connections around you, and let life’s beauty in all its forms deeply touch you. Thank you.

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