The Day When the Silence Made the Loudest Sound

Date: 20-07-2015

This is again an old post. But I hope you will like it.

I was lucky to get a PMT going to Upper. I was damn lucky.

A day is never a problem at Visteon. I usually enter the office at 9, start working on my Megatron (my Ubuntu 14.04 virtual machine), and then spend my entire day in playing with some of the new frameworks, developing test cases, attending planning meeting and discussing interesting things with Saurabh sir (read as, “Having some fun”). But at the time of leaving, generally 7 pm, I start worrying about my tiring journey to home and pray to get an Upper bus. Well, Upper is a place where I stay (actually, near it) it is around 20-25 km’s away from Vallabhnagar, the place where I am doing my internship. And my only way to commute is by PMT, the most unpredictable city bus service. If I don’t get a bus to Upper, then I have to change at least 3 PMT’s to reach to my place. And then I have to walk for 10-15 minutes more. So as I said, I was lucky to get an Upper PMT.

But my luck left me as soon as I entered that bus. It was damn crowded, filled till the door with people. It was a miracle that I even managed to enter it. And after 5 minutes of pushing and moving, I managed to find a bit spacious corner in the middle of the bus. Though I was standing only, at least I was able to breathe properly. And also get my dear headphones out of my sack, plug them in my cell phone, start playing my favorite LP songs, simply close my eyes and cut out myself from the noise of that crowded bus.

I was listening to those cool tracks for about half an hour when my phone started vibrating. I opened my eyes and checked it. It was a call from my mum. I picked it and answered some regular questions like ‘where are you’, ‘how long will it take’, etc etc. I ended that call as quickly as possible, coz I wanted to start playing ‘No more sorrow’, a classic LP hit. Before I could resume playing that song, I sensed something weird. The complete bus was silent and staring at three people, standing not much far away from me. Emulating the crowd, I also looked at them. And then, I just couldn’t resume my song for the entire journey.

               At first, I did not find anything special in them. They were three ordinary, middle edged strangers, standing like normal people, smiling like normal people, behaving like normal people. But they were not conversing like other normal people. They certainly were not. Coz they were not using any words. They were using hand signs.

                   There were 2 men and a woman. One man was wearing a pink shirt and a black trouser. He seemed a bit old, but he was the most energetic of all (and apparently the funniest as well because rest of the two were constantly smiling and giggling after his hand signs). Another man was sporting a green jacket and black jeans. He was the youngest. It appeared like these two men were speech impaired. The woman was wearing a blue salwar and was carrying a grey purse. She seemed to be in her forties. She had a constant smile on her face. It seemed like she could talk, and she was not as quick as the other two in making the signs, but still, she preferred to communicate through sign language only.

            At first, I was unable to understand any of their conversations. They were making signs very rapidly. But to my luck, I had made a project on speech impaired people in my 5^th semester, so I knew a bit about hand signs. So after concentrating for a while, I managed to grasp some part of the conversation. The man with the pink shirt was telling his story to the rest two. The woman was asking him to slow down a bit and another man was asking some occasional questions. It appeared like the man in the pink shirt was a poor man, and he was traveling through a PMT for the first time. He seemed new in Pune as well. He told that he was searching for a job, but he was unable to find one because of his impaired speech. He was sleeping at a relative’s house, who was a janitor. He was asked to earn his bread on his own which he had not managed to do for the last couple of days. I failed to understand what he was doing in that PMT. Maybe I missed that part in ‘No more sorrow’. Stupid song.

                        But I noticed one remarkable thing. He was not crying or begging or bugging about his life. He was making it sound very funny. I understood it from the smile on his face and his frequent funny gestures, which managed to put smiles on the other two faces. And on the faces of other passengers as well. He was making hand signs in such a funny way, that the whole bus was laughing at his story. Without even knowing what he was telling a bit of a sad story. Yes, the whole bus was laughing. And it was laughing at a story. That was quite an irony.

                        All of a sudden, that woman offered him some money. I thought he would take it, coz he really seemed very hungry. But he didn’t. He refused it in a fury. He made some very rapid hand signs and signaled her to keep that money back in her purse. A tear rolled out from his eye. He stood there like a monument, without making any sign. He was deeply hurt. And the whole bus was watching him with confusion. It was a shock to them as well. The smile on everyone’s face has disappeared.

                       That’s when the guy in the green jacket jumped into the conversation. He started making some hand signs. And he did it so rapidly that I did not understand even a single word. But he seemed to console him. He was rubbing his fist to his chest, which means sorry in sign language. The woman also apologized by holding her ears by her hands. Like a small kid. That returned a smile on the man in the pink shirt. He asked her not to worry, he has earned his bread. He said that he would buy something to eat once he would reach. And their playful conversation started again.  He was making his funny gestures again. The triplet was smiling again. I was smiling again. The whole bus was smiling again.

                    I did not realize when the bus reached the Upper corner, the place where most of the passengers, including me, get down, curse PMT for all the mismanaged service and start walking on the road to Sukhsagar or VIT. I got down today as well, but I did not curse PMT. I did not start walking on the road to Sukhsagar. I stood there. Coz that triplet has also decided to get down there. I saw them say goodbye to each other. The man in the pink shirt started walking to Sukhsagar, while rest two headed to VIT. I also started walking towards my home in sukhsagar, following that man in the pink shirt. He walked till he entered inside a construction site. I waited near the gate and watched him enter. I thought he was searching for something. But he was not. He kept his bag on that slab; spread removed a blanket and spread it there. He drank some water from a bottle and then he slept.

                      Yes, he slept. Without eating anything. He was lying all the time. He was not staying at his relative’s; he was staying at a construction site. And he has again failed to earn his bread. He could have easily taken money from that women and bought something to eat. But he didn’t. He valued his self-respect more than anything. Though he was going through such a bad phase, still he did not cry at all. 

                   I am bestowed with so many things, which he lacked. Yet, I spend my time cursing PMT, cursing my work, cursing almost everything around me. All I do is cry at my problems. And he? He made fun of his worries. He was a poor guy, but he was not letting this affect his life. He had lived his moments in that bus. He was living his life.

 He lacked a voice. All he had is silence.

 But that day, his silence made the loudest sound.