I usually don't get angered easily, but today, I did. I raised my voice while speaking to my mother today. Lashing out my wrath, the wrath trapped in me due to my hatred towards all the rough things that life had to offer. It wasn't much. The suffering. But it did amount to some.
I had decided that I would speak no more. How else am I suppose to describe anything perfectly? Silence is the only way by which I can describe something best. Not jeopardizing its infinite beauty.
My mother lay confused. I wasn't speaking at all. A smile is what I gave, not only to her, but every other person I met today. Uncanny, but it did work. Strangely, I realized today, the language of smile, silence, is all that is needed. The two make us realize that life's perfect.
Isn't it? Despite all the troubles, pain? Laughter, love? Tension, confusion? Life is perfect. But it can be described best only when one doesn't try to describe it at all. It's painful, this realization. Knowing that you'd never reach the end. Knowing that this imperfection, and accepting it, are the only modes by which one can make true sense out of things.
Realizing this would make you smile. You will smile, not for you have finally found an answer in this maze. But for you accept it, and can finally see the beauty in incomplete things.
We try to speak as we try to enforce our ideas on others, we speak, we order, we wish, but never listen. Silence gives you the power of listening. Listen more, learn more, speak less.
I spoke with my mother towards the night. Speaking my heart out, letting her know, of what I thought. That I was sorry. I presume I still wasn't able to reach out. No sweat. After doing what I should have, I simply smiled, and retreated back towards silence.
I smiled.