What's on my mind?
The silence here hurts. It cuts faster than a laser beam. Here all alone, with no single beating soul. It was only the ceiling, the furniture, the wooden bed; with a crunching pillow, keeping me company. It was just like a person standing in an empty hall, echoing in the dead space.
In this kind of silence, my soul, plunged in the thickest part of loneliness, made tiny whispers to my inner man. It was horrifying to learn that some part of me were failing at recognising those whispers, gradually turning me into a stranger even to myself.
On the days we had choir practice, I would feel a kind of relief. It felt I was breaking free from the shackles of boredom. But was it going to last? Nah! It was only but a matter of hours and I would return to my prison. The voices of the choristers would rise and fall, greasing my ears, and feeding my soul with joy. The technicalities in reading the solfa notations often took me away out of this world.
"It's not 'doo' but 'doh'. It should sound as though you want to pronounce a name given to a female deer", the choir master had pointed out. And at this, I would trace back to the beginning, reading all over again, making mistakes and correcting them. There was this kind of special feeling I have here —a feeling have never felt before, a feeling more complex than I thought, a feeling so compelling and masking. The aura here masked my bitterness and swept them under those angelic voices.
After some hours of practice, I would go back to my abode, hoping and wishing that the silence and boredom never returned.
I'm missing home. Where I loved and I'm loved. I'm missing socialization already. I'm missing people. 😂😂