The Sound Of Silence

Tip tap, tip tap was the sound that came from the tap in the kitchen
sink. Its solemn little voice would usually be drowned by the sound of
the house and its implanted organs, organs that were now asleep, they
could not shine, scream or animate as the juice that powered them
flowed no more, a temporary halt. For a moment it felt as if the
entire house was dead , all of life sucked out, as if it lay in
eternal slumber .

Fear gripped me as I sat in the corner, deprived of all the
artificial light that usually flooded my surroundings. I was waiting,
waiting for a big black monster to jump out at me from the corner ,
but it wouldn’t come . Its funny how the absence of light can actually
make one insecure and twist the mood . We humans take refuge under
well lit spaces, believing that they could somehow guard us from our
darkest fears.

The tip tap of the drops was now amplified like never before, its
clarity was hauntingly astounding. It possessed beauty, and some show
carried the promise of peace. It synchronized itself with the Tick
Tock of the clock in the hall , and this was the beginning of a
metronome. Together their tones clashed against each other, like
brothers forced into war. Every second was so different, yet so
repetitive.

I fell back on my bed and let the sounds explore the canals of my
ears. They entered my head as waves of subtle feeling, meaningless but
peace full. The rhythm was suddenly attacked by a bang that originated
at the ceiling of my room. New neighbors had moved in, a young couple,
they had curious feel to themselves.

The banging continued and it reminded me of a battle. The bangs
continued, and they were slow and powerful, full of meaning,
determined by intent, like battering ram forcing its way in. The
metronome of the tip tap and the tick tock were now submerged in the
background and they felt like war drums, motivating the force behind
this ram. Power and purpose proved a vital combination.

Then slowly the speed increased and the atmosphere changed, now it
was a struggle, it was fast and deadly. The force met a powerful
resistance that was hard to overcome. The bangs quickened in power and
pace, but the enemy equaled all that was thrown against it, it would
not subdue or give in. It resisted for far too long, until it could no
longer battle the inevitable, all energy was drained. It gave in, but
felt victory instead of defeat, and the bangs were now fading away and
a sudden loud giggle tore through the air. And it was over. The
metronome continued and now it dominated the scene. It was beautiful,
richer than the grandest orchestra !

Suddenly, the house sprang back into life and my stereo screamed.
Music was what I called it, but not anymore. It was mindless compared
to what I had just heard. It was artificial, devoid of true feeling.