‘I’m thiking about all the lost words,’ Sangha said. She was pensive. There is a whole dictionary of them, I said. ‘Not those kind… I’m thinking of the unsaid, unsayable words that we have lost in idle conversation.’
Sangha had been attending a wedding. She had also had guests staying in. These had been occasions when the clatter of chatter would bring alive walls and whole houses. But now, an effort needed to be made to catch hold of wisps of conversation ideas floating in the wind before they flew out the window. But, caution! They could not just become conversation pieces as is where is. They had to be scrutinised for propriety before being floated.
She was ruing the lost art of conversing – gossipping, if you will. ‘People had so much to say to each other. Conversation was like a bubbling spring now, a sedate river sometimes, but hardly ever a stagnant pool. Now the unsaid words, or the unsayable ones, stand like a wall between people and the conversation simply will not flow!’