Silence Is Golden

It happens like clockwork every single working day. I never fail to observe the ritual every morning when I wait for my conveyance. Eight boys, in their early teens, file outside a fancy restaurant near my home. They wear their hair long and are tattooed all over. They look like school dropouts in outsized clothes. They keep their pants in place with the help of a plastic string. But the most striking feature about them is their poker face. They do not exchange a word or a smile with one another and go about their business. One of them fishes out a bunch of keys and unlocks half a dozen locks while the others seem to be admiring the littered flooring. Then another boy applies himself to the lever and rotates it with all his might to get the rolling shutter moving. The other seven stand at equidistance along the length of the heavy metallic shutter and lever the door up with all their might. Task accomplished they seem to be applauding themselves when they dust their hands off in a clapping motion.

         They enter the premises and get on with the sweeping dusting, cleaning, arranging furniture besides lugging in fruits, vegetables and other provisions delivered at their doorstep. They fetch and carry water, pass on the cleaning items and busy themselves sanitizing the dining hall wordlessly. Perhaps they were apprised of their role at the time of appointment. Yet the fact that they carry on in a disciplined manner without anybody overseeing them awes me.  Soon, all of them disappear into the building and I do not get to see them till the following morning.  

         Their lackluster daily routine never fails to fascinate me.

          I find it almost surreal to see a bunch of muted adolescents. Hallmark features of youth like liveliness and light heartedness are visibly absent in these young men. They don’t seem sad either. Their expressionless visages reveal nothing much.

          Have they been silenced by the harsh realities of life? Have premature responsibilities made iron men of them? Have they realised that Work is Worship? Perchance, have they comprehended the futility of speech?

         Nonetheless their tacit teamwork seemed to speak in volumes about their bonhomie and solidarity. Perhaps they shed their quiet later on or maybe not. They could be conserving their energy for a hard day ahead. Whatever the reasons, seeing this silent scene day after day implicitly reaffirms my faith in inherent human bonding!