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Chairs stand empty in a bar packed full. Evening has fallen. A warm spring night lies ahead. A waitress pushes her way through the crowd outside, picking up glasses, those offered and those left on a brick wall.
Leaning against this wall, he talks with his friends. Nothing particular. Just subjects arising in mind. Women. Careers. Unnoticeably, as usual, he is competing.
When it starts to rain, no one tries to go inside. Knowing it will pass quickly, they shelter beneath an awning. Too many people. The sudden heavy rain drowns out voices and he loses contact with his friends.
He finds himself looking into the face of a young woman he had not seen minutes ago when he was scanning the crowd. She is carrying a baby on her belly, wrapped in cloth that is knotted around her neck. He makes space, but not enough. They stare into each other’s eyes. She looks away. She puts her arms around the cloth, around the baby who is visible through the curves in the cloth.
‘I hate this’ she says, the words bouncing back from the ground and hard to hear. When she lifts her head again he asks if he can help. In the redness of her face, her eyes move quickly and her jaws are tight. The moisture on her forehead does not come from the rain.
‘Just talk to me’, she pleads. He does not know what to say. There is silence.
‘Talk’, she commands.
He thinks of questions, but immediately realizes that she is not looking for a conversation. She needs words only as distractions. She tries to + more
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 Photo: Annemarieke van Drimmelen
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He had climbed for such a long time and felt proud to have reached the top that only a few men had reached before him. He felt proud to have listened to the inner voice that had told him to climb the mountain and meet silence there. He felt proud of the sensation of his muscles, proof of persistence and strength.
From the top of the huge mountain he saw the world stretched out before him, far away and out of reach. And again he was filled with pride, this time from seeing that the world is, indeed, nothing more than a picture, just as the sages had seen before him.
He waited for silence to come.
He took off his shirt, revealing well-trained muscles to no one (but you never know, maybe God was watching and would be filled with pride, seeing this son).
Silence came with thunder.
In an instant, he was lifted up and felt rocks hurting his body. It had taken him months to climb that mountain. And years of meditation to arrive at the idea of climbing that mountain. It had taken him the biggest part of his life to find silence. And now he had finally met Silence, he saw the world approaching in just a few seconds.
Blood poured out of his body. Silence bent over him; anger in his eyes, his claws sharp, his posture like that of a beast ready to attack.
“Would it take more pain and blood to kill the arrogance of a man who wanted to reach out above the world?” Silence roared at him. Our hero, afraid and shivering, didn’t dare to look into the face of Silence. His strong body and + more
tagged: arrogance silence body meditation
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 Photo: André Platteel
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