Speaking Mute - 012 - "Muted letters"

 Whenever I used to sit idly, my father would worry that I would be a lazy child and would make me do new things. Soon, I understood that sitting idle is tough, and now I sometimes multitask to handle the situation. I push myself harder and strive for greatness, believing that it's all "For the name of art." However, it often feels like the more I do, the less I am heard. This is what I call 'The Speaking Mute' - an oxymoronic expression of my thoughts.

Have you ever wondered what it's like to be deaf? To explore this, I decided to conduct a social experiment and pretended to be deaf during my metro travel. I activated full ringtone noise and used caption assisters. Whenever my phone rang, the entire compartment would look at me as if I were carrying a bomb. But I soon realized that pretending to be deaf and actually being deaf are two very different experiences. I yearn to hear what others talk about - the conversations of people, the discussions in YouTube videos, and even the babbling of babies. The ability to hear is truly a precious virtue.

However, despite this, whenever I set out to pursue my goals, all I hear is a resounding "NO." Nobody questions their own expertise or considers the reasons behind their objections. But when things actually get done, it feels like they become silent and run away. Isn't that a cowardly act?

Apart from pursuing my goals, I'm also someone who believes in taking breaks and focusing on other aspects of life. However, I always find myself returning to the place where I do things, as it gives me a sense of fulfilment like nothing else. In this place, I see lush greenery, and witness wonders, and my heart resonates with them.

But at some point, my voice was heard by people outside of my immediate circle. Over time, it garnered so much attention that now my whole college recognizes me. I don't see it as a problem, but when I stumble and fall, all I hear are mocking laughs, not empathy. I never asked for pity, but all I received was laughter.

Eventually, I realized that this pursuit was futile and that the problem was in deceiving myself. It turns out, it's normal for others to laugh - anytime, every time, without even a hint of sympathy for the person who has fallen.

Recently, I discovered that my hobby of photography has taken me to the next level, covering events at my college. But when I see my friends' stories, filled with photos and cherished memories, I realize that my own photos are missing. They only exist in my memory, recalled but not captured digitally. All I have are fleeting moments that I thought were cool, but it seems I failed to create lasting memories.

Does this mean that I am nothing more than flesh that can only talk about feelings?

When we talk about muting the environment, we should also acknowledge how we are often muted.

From a very young age, being muted has become a daily occurrence. As you can see, the title itself reflects this notion. But sometimes, I feel that I should have spoken up. Here, I would like to express those thoughts (while maintaining the privacy of the individuals involved).

Dear RS,

When were the old days I miss them now. When were the old days when you used to say I'm a goofy little boy of yours? I miss those old days when you would help my sister play and say to study me while giving me another gift to me. Sorry that I didn't cry on your last day. I still cry for you. If you read this make sure I'm granted with good life and the best life that I could imagine. 

Yours Lovingly

Dear N ,

Being truthful is not wrong, in the sense that at least you know what the other person is thinking and have not been fooled around. We had a lot to talk but just that one truth made us different. just that one truly made my feelings nothing for you, just that one truth .... making me forget you and you forget me. The old books told, "Don't say a truth which is not liked by the opposite person." Maybe I should have heard what the old book said. Hope you get back after this mess and have at least a peaceful time ahead. I may have said something that hurt you. Because being truthful is wrong. and it's a sword I carry that pierced you. 

Yours and Your

Dear B,

I raised you as a little, hope you are a bigger person who is a father to many children. My hands still remember the texture and touch of your skin. I still want you to hug me now and lick my tears off so I can type this. Sometimes few things come to life which is meant to be a memento. You were one of them. I hope someone like you come again. Always remember O captain! My Captain.

Yours mine

If you want to share your letters to someone you had to tell and can't share them in Insta DM or in Blogspot comment. being mute doesn't mean you shouldn't write.