The silence has begun; no more can anything be heard. The melody goes on, flowing from note to note, quavers, semi-quavers it flows, as my mind begin to grasp the source it changes path, turning to another long pause, then I wonder, was it me? Did I hear the sound? Has my senses deceived my mind again? I wonder longing for answers, but nothing comes, nothing’s heard & I’m back again!
I keep wondering, dreaming about the melody, I thought I heard, I did, didn’t I? It went on, again and again. I felt the hunger, something’s missing, I don't want the melody alone, don’t want the sound gone, then suddenly, like the first beam of light that escapes the horizon I hear another tune, this time a bit higher, almost enduring, but not so smooth. I hear it in the distance, long awaited sound, I hear the voice, of another means of silence, but why? That too is alone, not so strong. I wonder? Can it be? Or could it see the skin of an unearthly pride, though it stands alone, similar & high it still does not see the beauty of being combined. I look down my heart, sad but adamant, I want them both, I want them both tonight, but could it ever be? I feel lost, slowly I breathe, thinking the thought I just began.
I take my step, slow and steady, I think to myself, I must be ready, I must be calm but my heart just beats like an endless storm. I hear them again, I see the sign, they are both around but not so fond. I fight my battle, get them to settle but can they be? Will they see? United they conquer but alone they fall. I hear the cry, I hear the voice, I think they know what I might feel. One just nods, he says Yes, he is willing to take the flight. My eyes turn red, not with fire, but with desire they must come together. Confused and lost, I look at them, they see my tears just crying for help. They know my heart longs not for selfish intentions, but yet they don’t seem to see the depth in their tones. Time passes by, more tunes appear and more tones are heard. Notes fly loud, they slither soft, and they just seem to pass by so fast. Even in the most congested beat, seems just a sound, a noise, irritating at times, frustrated tempo, I begin to wonder, wonder about my long lost pals? Did they make it? Were they compatible, were they on key? Will they give birth to another new song? I long to hear the same melody, long to hear the sound again.
I wait & I wait, I’ll always wait… Wait for the Harmony of Silence!
Memories we call them, they come in peace. Bitter sweet symphonies of the time gone by. They lay deep as brush strokes by an impressionist, Circling my attic like a fleet of pigeons, an armada that sails through the trysts of time. They lie clustered in those corridors of remembrance, I pluck each one and smell there languid air, they make me laugh and cry; Some shall not fade though some muffle past by. Clutching onto them I am reminded of times, of love,sadness, fear, mirth and laughter. Some make me relish the time gone by, Some talk to me in the tone I love. Showing glimpses of those I treasure, the one's far, close and those departed souls. They lay there; all inked in the book of time, turn the page and the moment is alive, I try to hold on to them and they fly past by. I ask a few not to bother me again, they say; it was me that gave them space to stay and here I see something happening again .. Call it déjà-vu is what they say ...

I woke up, must have been a little later, to find me all alone in a place bearing a slight similarity to those banks where I was before. The waters were crystal clear, and appeared still, boasting of its fertile tributaries which had shaped up the reckless, shabby stream into a mobile example of clarity, gushing ahead or rather making a slow procession, in contrast with its parallel railings of instability, with a grace of self realisation, for the flow seemed sure of its destination though it has to endure a sinuous course ahead.
The yellowish tinted moon, which appeared swollen, conveniently with my opalescent memories, made the waters shimmering with a spirit of rebellion, beckoning me, as I stood up, envisaging my purpose, and I decided to bear the real music, giving away my ear plugs to my future brothers who would not be brave enough. And then I felt a hand, a warm one, on my shoulders, ensuring me of support. I turned around, and it was .....…