As kids we were taught,
That silence is a mark of respect.
“When two adults are speaking,
You must not interject.”
When we were little, we were taught,
That silence is the mark of a good child.
“Be obedient, don’t talk back,
Be the kid who is polite and mild.”
As young girls, we were taught,
That silence is the mark of a girl well-behaved.
“Don’t speak up in dissent,
Don’t voice what you want, need or craved.”
From movies, books and songs,
As we grew up we observed,
That silence could be a way
To say you’d like to love and be loved.
As young adults we learnt
That silence came from fear.
Fear to protect, hide or cherish,
The things that we held dear.
As we grew to observe the world,
Silence resulted from anger, dissent or disgust,
At family, friends or leaders,
Who seemed to have broken our trust.
But it is only now that I realise,
That silence can’t be stereotyped.
It could mean a hundred different things,
And can never be labelled or defined.
It could fuel the need
To speak up and campaign for your choice.
Who needs a weapon,
When all you need is your voice?
Silence could be the result
Of words stuck in your throat
Words that could have been anything–
From a love letter to a suicide note.
We fight over things that people say,
Not over things they don’t.
We pay more attention to their words,
Not what their silence condoned.
When silence could mean so many things,
Is it right for people to be prejudged?
For if words were to be used,
Shouldn’t millions of hearts be touched?
Silence could mean so many things,
So many emotions it could hold.
Open your minds and hearts a bit,
And forget what as a child you were told.
C. Pooja Reddy is a lawyer and runs an Indirect Tax law firm in Mumbai. She is passionate about writing, painting, dance and dogs.
Featured image credit: 愚木混株 Cdd20/Pixabay