I celebrated my birthday two weeks back, and this is the “birthday resolution” I took: to maintain two minutes of silence every single day.
Okay, I admit, this sounds stupid. Why on Earth would I do anything like that? I love chattering like a monkey, and the only time I ever shut up is when I sleep. Even then, I sometimes laugh in my sleep. Embarrassing.
No, I’m not trying to curb an addiction, I can remain silent when I wish too. Plus, talking is one of my greatest skills, as I can melt even hearts of iron with sweet, buttery, flattery.
I was influenced to keep two minutes of silence by Philip Hughes, the Australian cricketer ( who died on 27/11 after getting struck by a bouncer bowled by Sean Abbot) and the seventh anniversary of the 26/11 attacks.
That set me thinking. There are millions of people who die everyday-whether due to terror attacks, accidents, or just a plain old natural death. Even terrorists have families: families they love and care for.
Whatever the case may be, every soul which has entered the other world deserves respect and remembrance. There may not be anybody left for them, so, I keep two minutes of silence for them, praying for them, and praying for the good of the world.
However big or small, each soul needs two minutes of silence. And that’s what I can do. Maintain two minutes of silence. Two minutes of love, respect, prayers, and hope for them and the world.
I would like to end with this poem:
I cannot say, and I will not say
That he is dead. He is just away.
With a cheery smile, and a wave of the hand,
He has wandered into an unknown land
And left us dreaming how very fair
It needs must be, since he lingers there.
And you—oh you, who the wildest yearn
For an old-time step, and the glad return,
Think of him faring on, as dear
In the love of There as the love of Here.
Think of him still as the same. I say,
He is not dead—he is just away.”
― James Whitcomb Riley