Echoes of Silence - Chapter 1

Hello everyone,

This may come as a bit of a surprise to some. I am starting a new series on my blog today, in which I will be posting chapters from the novel I am trying to write in their true sequence. I would be most grateful for any help readers could provide by honestly critiquing the work and of course, any advice would be appreciated.

I hope you enjoy reading. The title is still undecided, but tentatively I have decided on "Echoes of Silence" which is also a title of one of my old poems. More than anything, this is my attempt at experimenting with a different style of writing, which combines elements of suspense, comedy and surrealism simultaneously, hopefully giving readers a chance to explore these rather paradoxical emotions in one go. No idea how successful it would be, but no harm trying!

Enjoy, comment, critique..Thank you! :-)

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The Rain

The rain did not stop, many hours had passed. I was standing in the window of my second floor apartment on a typical Sunday morning, trying to make sense of what was going on. The scene on the street below was ordinary, yet there was a strange air of mystery to those otherwise mundane ongoings. There was a little boy enjoying the rain, sailing his paper boats on the water logged street. Passers-by had been waiting for nearly over an hour in the shops on the other side of the street, hoping for the rain to stop. The rain did not stop though. If anything, the downpour was getting worse with the running hands of the clock. A few cars had broken down due to water clogging their engines; their grumbling, thick black smoke from their exhausts and the helpless attempts of their drivers to get them running again were all adding to the richness of this scene. The rain still did not stop. The little boy had got fed up of all his boats sinking due to the rain. An intelligent fruit seller observing this offered to hold his umbrella over the boat. Seeing them sailing on the high puddles, looking mighty as if in the high seas, the child's pride was very much visible in that priceless smile! There was a surreal symphony between the battering rain drops and cacophony on the street. Some children, slightly older than the child sailing paper boats were trying to catch fish in the water logged on that street. Perhaps innocence was the only thing the rain was not able to wash away. It was 9.15am. I was struggling to realise that the two hands of the clock are of different length, thinking for a moment there was only one arm going round the dial.

In the background, kettle was brewing tea. Its aroma filled the room. I was spoilt for choice, should I shut the window and enjoy this smell, or should I stick my head out of the window and take in the beautiful fragrance of earth after rain. The rain had still not stopped. News channels were flashing the same headlines as they were the night before. There was a slight chill in the air, but I was trying to live every moment of this weather. A strange joy was taking me over. It was like an avalanche, against which I had no defence but to be destroyed. The destroyer was only joy after all, a rather euphoric feeling. It was a mixture of content, happiness, peace and tranquillity. The clock showed 9.30am now. Only fifteen minutes had past, and it felt as if I had been standing there for years. I could still not make up my mind regarding my preferred smell. It was still raining. I was smiling. Still standing in the window, I was able to see the television screen in the living room of the apartment opposite mine on the other side of that street. The children there were busy watching circus, a clown with his red nose and patch-work attire was performing a juggling act. The audience were clearly impressed. The children watching this on television were in awe. I was smiling. The clown was showing full set of his teeth too. This is when a sudden though threw me out of that trance-like state. I thought to myself, "Would that clown really be this happy? Does his smile come from a happy heart? What then, is the source of my smile?"

***

The rain had still not stopped. The clock showed 6pm. I was sitting in my couch with a cup of tea, the tea had gone cold by now. News channel was still on. "Have I lost my mind?", I thought to myself again. Surely this was a probability, if not a real possibility. Especially after the events of the preceding week. But what had happened? I didn't seem to remember a thing. I looked around in the living room, and saw all newspapers thrown open on every inch of available surface. I realised why the news channel was still on, after days. It had been exactly a week since the calamity of last Sunday. They were nowhere to be found after that lightening had struck. It was confirmed by the local Police that at least thirty five were missing, and three bodies found on the scene. Thankfully none of those bodies were theirs. Then where might they be? If I had not by then, I sure was loosing my mind now.

The telephone rang, and I rushed with thumping heart and hopeful mind that it would be the harbinger of that much awaited news. It was the kind neighbour calling to check on me and see if any news had come yet. Everyone seemed to be more concerned for the children, and perhaps rightly so. We all loved them dearly. Where would they be? Where would she be? Are they even alive? All kind of thoughts gathered like those rain clouds in my mind again. The dreariness was growing within. I looked outside the window once more. It was dark. Everyone had gone away. The street was clear now, just the water, and the rain which still had not stopped.