my silence is not silent …

My silence is not silent.
Haunted by images,
feelings and fragrances
words and their meanings
I pretend
I am silent.

Teary eyed I look into my cup half full half gone and I have no recollection when did it happen there is no taste of tea on my tongue. I had dropped some tears in it and am looking for them. My heart is heavy. I want to lie down, curl up into a ball and vanish. I think that is how mothers feel when their sons leave them. One day they just pick up their things and following their dreams they leave. Now I know how my mother in law must have felt when I let her son go in search of a better future and when he secured it, I joined him along with our first born. But we helped her improve her life , made it comfortable for her. At that time ,that was all I thought was important. Emotional side of separation never came to mind. Now I know. I know the taste, the heartache it causes.

My tea is cold. Who added salt in it ?

Earlier when waiting for the kettle to boil for tea and I was standing against the wall, looking outside at the lake. This lake is my retreat. It has seen me happy and laughing, seen me basking in the love and attention of my children. birthdays, anniversaries and just family evenings with fun and games. And it has seen me shedding tears, talking to myself, grappling with memories I would rather not remember. not sharing my grief with anyone except this calm and reassuring water body.

I was standing and looking out. Water was still quiet in the kettle. On the far side of the lake some 20 0r 30 little duck babies were floating in a tight cluster. Suddenly one of them would break away and start gliding in the opposite direction and with a flurry of movements all of them, in a formation, would follow the one that got away. The chase ending in getting together again. On this side of the lake a lone star is pecking in the water, God knows what. He is not bothered about the group. Just pecking away, whatever it is
I heard the kettle whistle. Tea on the table., boiled eggs in their cups crisp toast and jam or cheese on the side. Butter knife, small spoon, salt and pepper shakers … robotic work
but I must hide what is going in my mind and what my body is going through.
It didn’t hurt me when I had that bad fall in their parking lot. Everybody saw my bruises – black and blue . I am more blue, more achy now but I keep reminding myself over and over again –
No tears, no emotions, put your best foot forward, show a happy face, be normal, talk normal. Depression and distress are infectious. Keep them at bay.

Just remember that you are a mother. And mothers always want their children to be happy and contented.

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