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Silence in the Shindig
Shindig : A large, lively celebration ; A party
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A billow of jibber-jabber was hovering in the air and the fancy fairy lights were twinkling all over the banquet. It was one of those many evenings when we humans were celebrating the obvious. Bruno mars was monopolizing the piped music and they were all twirling to his tune. But far from all the glimmer and the fuss, there she sat next to the candelabrum, trying her best to hide that book of hers and sustaining that fabricated smirk. It was the first time I saw her.
When our world was lighting candles, cutting cakes, there she sat afar, smiling. She was different, in lots of different ways. In a room that was full of motels and the lounges that had an ornate fragrance in the air and those king sized beds, she felt like home to me, a place where one could sleep tranquilly at the end of the day.
Like one of those chords that hit you in the core, she was silence draped in a metaphor. She was like one of those melodies that you listen to before falling asleep.
I was always a clumsy kid, never far from chaos. And I grew up no different, I never was lucid or anchored. I kept on running all my life. Running away from places and its people, their light, their promises. But that evening, I felt like all my life I have been running to embrace her. What was strange is how she felt like home to a nomad, who wasn't even looking for a shelter. That evening, I knew I was smitten by love. I fell in love with the silence that prevailed in a room full of noise. She was the silence in that shindig.
© Sagnik
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A billow of jibber-jabber was hovering in the air and the fancy fairy lights were twinkling all over the banquet. It was one of those many evenings when we humans were celebrating the obvious. Bruno mars was monopolizing the piped music and they were all twirling to his tune. But far from all the glimmer and the fuss, there she sat next to the candelabrum, trying her best to hide that book of hers and sustaining that fabricated smirk. It was the first time I saw her.
When our world was lighting candles, cutting cakes, there she sat afar, smiling. She was different, in lots of different ways. In a room that was full of motels and the lounges that had an ornate fragrance in the air and those king sized beds, she felt like home to me, a place where one could sleep tranquilly at the end of the day.
Like one of those chords that hit you in the core, she was silence draped in a metaphor. She was like one of those melodies that you listen to before falling asleep.
I was always a clumsy kid, never far from chaos. And I grew up no different, I never was lucid or anchored. I kept on running all my life. Running away from places and its people, their light, their promises. But that evening, I felt like all my life I have been running to embrace her. What was strange is how she felt like home to a nomad, who wasn't even looking for a shelter. That evening, I knew I was smitten by love. I fell in love with the silence that prevailed in a room full of noise. She was the silence in that shindig.
© Sagnik
