The Silent Walk on the Moon

They both silently walked on the bumpy moon.


Silence was their cherished friend and they enjoyed its company. How could they not? It was the faithful witness to their days of all colours and all songs.
They continued to walk, feeling the bumps under their feet. It was a miracle, an extraordinary occurrence – man dreams of traveling to the moon, and here they were; the moon under their feet.
They wondered what it was about the silence that so intrigued them, that so made them fall in love with the idea of loving silence? It was, perhaps, the charm of the lyrics that thoughts wrote, the ‘pop’ of feelings, the ‘jazz’ of rationality, the ‘rock’ of fear, the ‘rap’ of ‘notbeingunderstood’. It was probably the fact that sometimes, ‘silence’ was the brother of patience, and patience was the virtue of saints.
What does patience even do? One of them wondered.
It gives you hope, and hope gives you a reason to wake up every morning. Or night.
It’s strong, it’s powerful, the Other One thought. It’s more dangerous than a nuclear weapon. It leaves you wondering, questioning the very existence of your thoughts. It’s like walking on a thread, or a broken bridge made of fragile wood over the angry river.
Silence is also kind, the First One thought. It saves you from the consequences of the embarrassing dives of irrationality that you so emotionally take. It’s better than ‘dammit’, ‘oh f***’? It can lock up your ignorance from the world and crown you with graceful authority.


It’s the lub dub’ of your heart, the hummm and aahhh of your breaths, the ‘tup tup’ of your feet against the solid ground, the gentle blinking of the eyes and the tears lining them, the gentle shaking of your hand, the chaos in your mind. That’s silence. And when you find a silence that is proficient in this Language of the Living, then it’s ‘companionable silence’ and that’s when you are the true King or Queen of your own little Kingdom, because, really, that’s all that really matters.
They both continued to walk, looking down at the ball of blue and green from afar. It looked beautiful and they were mesmerised. But why was it more peaceful here? Because…because lies and deceit and unkindness and loss and death didn’t exist here. There was nothing to haunt you, nothing to rob you, nothing to humiliate your feelings, nothing to disrespect your vulnerability, nothing to mock your innocence.
And this is why they both were there. Silently glorifying the magical jingles ringing within its wavelength, the silence soothed their mind and souls and amplified their shimmer of joys. And the silence was infinite, for an eternity, and it would tug at the knots on their hearts for a long, long time, till the heart would turn into a fossil.
They decided then. They’d build a home there, away from the dirty politics of the world, away from the dirty schemes of ‘honourable men’, away from the dust of lies and dishonesty, away from the fire of jealousy, away from the trash of the past. Away from everything, they’d build a home on Moon. They’d be ‘Mooners’.
With barren feet and overwhelming souls, they would forever take long walks on the Moon..long, silent walks. Yes, they would be ‘Mooners’.



“Perhaps the most important thing we bring to another person is the silence in us, not the sort of silence that is filled with unspoken criticism or hard withdrawal. The sort of silence that is a place of refuge, of rest, of acceptance of someone as they are. We are all hungry for this other silence. It is hard to find. In its presence we can remember something beyond the moment,a strength on which to build a life. Silence is a place of great power and healing.” – Rachel Naomi Remen 


Photo Credits: Rumi’s Daughter, by Muriel Maufroy.




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