ALL RIGHTS RESERVED BY THE AUTHOR
Date 10/04/2026
There are silences we don’t speak of.
Like the one between a question and the nod that never comes. The silence of an apology that remains stuck at the edge of the throat. The quiet that stretches across a dinner table when both know it’s over but won’t say it.
We think of silence as emptiness. But it’s not. It holds everything we couldn’t put into words.
The way a parent stares out of the window, pretending not to cry. The friend who stops calling without explanation. The lover who leaves your message on “read” for days.
Silence isn’t absence—it’s the deepest kind of presence.
We spend our lives fearing it, running from it, filling it with noise. But if you listen closely, silence has its own grammar. A vocabulary of pauses. A rhythm of glances. A punctuation of unsaid things.
Sometimes, what we leave unsaid says the most.
RAJAT CHANDRA SARMAH
GUWAHATI, ASSAM, INDIA
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