It was dark. The park was almost emptied of
the regular walkers. A few women were leaving, talking loudly about the cooking
they would have to do on reaching home. Another group of women rose reluctantly
from their gossip -complaints about how the son was becoming putty in the hands
of his wife. A lone man walked briskly up and down talking on his mobile
worrying about the poor work culture his team was showing. Outside the park
another group of women were discussing the topic of how their children managed
the house in their absence; the consensus being that children ought to be often
left to fend for themselves. This would stand them in good stead when they
moved out to lead independent lives.
We walked together briskly and in silence
watching our step in the fading light, catching snatches of conversation. Exchanging
a few words we marched on till we saw a middle aged couple on a bench
conversing. They looked at each other intently as they conversed, gesticulating
continuously. Often they smiled and laughed. The two of us marched past them
about ten times as we made our determined laps. The couple rose from the bench
still smiling and gesticulating. We realized they were using sign language and
maybe one or both of them was dumb. I
marveled at how wonderful it was to have a conversation looking at the person,
watching the face and actions and actually paying attention. They could argue,
complain or even fight this way I mused, but the world would be none the wiser.
They were communicating silently and effectively.
When my daughters were younger they watched
my face intently when I told them a story. They listened with involvement,
their small faces mirroring the emotions my voice and face was conveying. And
they would seat me before them as they narrated their day’s experiences .I would have to look at them as
they spoke, looking away or walking around as they spoke would be met with a
cry, ”You are not listening to me Mummy!”.
We grownups have mastered the art of
detachment in conversation. Everywhere people are talking- but into their
mobiles with the hands free facility. I find it funny when I meet people
talking to themselves in buses or on the roads looking ahead at some imaginary
person. At home most people talk watching TV or hidden behind newspapers.
We seem to be looking away all the time
–looking at something elusive in the far distance. The very old or ailing can
sit face to face and have a ‘proper’ conversation but generally sit alone in
the absence of like minded souls.
I am having a conversation now with another
lady sitting before me; I watch her face, eyes and gestures intently. She
shares all my thoughts agreeing amiably to all my ideas and opinions. It’s
getting boring though, because ‘she’ is just ‘me’ in the mirror!
