I love silence. At home, it seems most of the times, my house is silent. The cat does not speak except when he is hungry, when he lets us know or when he needs the door opened. Otherwise, the house is silent.
Silence gives me time to think and think more. There is fun in thinking.
About six months back, I went home to help my parents during my mother’s surgery. I am a noisy person, though I like silence. I talk and sometimes I am the only one that talks at my home; it seems like at my parental home too, I am the person who makes the most noise other than my niece of course. My father had to go out for something one day and when he came back, he asked my mum, why is there a silence at home? My elder daughter was there too and she heard him say this. She laughed at this and told me later that even grandpa thinks I am the noisy one at home. It is strange that silence is often experienced when there is the absence of noise.
At night, the computer and WhatsApp give us the bleeps that again break the silence of the night and nights are supposed to be silent, right?
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