In which we meditate on our love of stillness…
LARYNGITIS = not having to talk to a single soul, pleasant days filled with self-absorbed soliloquies minus the volume button, jumping to different places and topics seamlessly, no doubt a landmark in the history of reflections, a speck here, a speck there, a green labyrinth, don’t matter much to me ‘cos I’m segueing oh so smoothly like a crazy alligator, a shiny new red train on an old track, celestial soda pop on perpetual replay, and above all, being silent, being so silent all the time….
Words – Ruati Chhangte
Illustration by Alyssa Pachuau for The Mean Journal.
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