Conversations in the dark

I don’t quite remember when they started… the conversations in the dark. Maybe some morning when I was too tired, when my head was hurting, when I could not bear the harsh lights.

Maybe that morning, Alma walked inside my room, fully dressed in her school dress, shoes, tie, blazer and all… and asked quietly “Are you awake ?”

“Yes I am, but please do not switch on the light.” I answered. So she sat on the bed. Some moments of silence passed.

And then she started talking, softly. About herself mostly. A little bit about school, about her classmates, her fears, her dreams, her anxieties. I listened quietly, answering whenever she paused for a response.

I realized that it is so easy to talk in the dark. It is also that easy to listen. To not worry about making eye contact, to not let the other person see your expressions. Just talk. And listen. Just the sounds of soft voices, punctuated with silences which sometimes speak more than words.

At one such silent moment, we heard the ‘Did you do it’ bird in the trees outside. It keeps repeating ‘Did you do it ? Did you do it ?’ in the morning silences. I listened to it, and told Alma to listen. She stopped speaking. We both listened to the bird calling out. We both smiled. The room was in semi-darkness but some slivers of pale morning light filtered through. It was the hour of the Gods. The city was yet to wake up. The grey morning mist was swirling in the air. I felt something beautiful touch my heart.

After some time, I reluctantly looked at the time, and had to switch the lights on. It was time to wake up and face life. Harsh lights, coarse texture of the newspaper full of gory news, banging of doors, rushing about, picking up stuff, losing myself for the next twelve hours in a swirl of hard cement and stone.

But something had changed. We had found something. The next morning, and every morning after that day, we would have those twenty minutes of conversation in the dark. We would pause to listen to the ‘Did you do it’ bird. We would smile, talk and even laugh in the darkness. Sitab caught on, and he joined in too, when he had time.

It’s a beautiful way to start the day. No matter how stressful the day may have gone, there is always the morning after. The morning with its promise of light and darkness, of bonding and sharing, of silences and soft sounds.