Today, in the middle of mindless scrolling — between forwarded jokes, school updates, and “good morning” flowers — something made me stop.
A friend’s WhatsApp status.
“When you are young, you prefer to be surrounded by chatter. Become a parent, and you understand how truly golden silence is — even if it’s for a few minutes.”
I didn’t just read it and move on.
I paused.
Went back.
Read it again.
And then… again.
Because it didn’t feel like a status.
It felt like someone had quietly opened a window into my current life.
There was a time when silence made me uncomfortable.
It felt like an awkward guest at a lively party — unwelcome, unnecessary, slightly suspicious. I was a chatterbox, the kind who could start a conversation with a wall and expect a reply. Noise meant life. Laughter, arguments, random stories — everything had to fill the air.
Silence? That was boring.
Then life happened.
Marriage. Responsibilities. Work. And the grand, beautiful chaos of three children.
Now my house sounds like a live orchestra — except nobody is following the same music sheet.
“Mummaaaa!”
“Where is my book?”
“He took my pencil!”
“What’s for dinner?”
(And my brain quietly whispering: What is peace?)
That WhatsApp status stayed in my head the whole day.
Somewhere between answering questions and reheating coffee for the third time, I realized — this is me.
Because now, my definition of luxury has changed.
It’s not vacations.
It’s not shopping.
It’s five uninterrupted minutes of silence.
No questions.
No responsibilities.
No “Mummaaaaa.”
Just me. Breathing.
“In silence, we don’t find emptiness… we find ourselves.”
Isn’t it funny?
The same person who once feared silence now craves it like hidden chocolate in a busy household.
I don’t want deep thoughts. I don’t want productivity. I don’t want to “use time wisely.”
I just want to sit.
Do nothing.
Think nothing.
Breathe in… breathe out…
Maybe even eat without sharing. (Now that’s luxury.)
Motherhood has a strange way of rewiring you.
Earlier, silence meant loneliness.
Now, silence means survival.
Earlier, I wanted to be heard.
Now, I just want to hear… nothing.
“Peace isn’t the absence of noise, but the presence of a quiet mind.”
And yet, here’s the twist — the irony that makes me smile.
The same noise that exhausts me…
Is also the noise I would miss if it ever disappeared.
Those endless questions, tiny fights, loud laughter, and random stories — they are not disturbances.
They are memories in the making.
They are proof that life is happening, loudly and unapologetically.
So now I stand somewhere in between.
A former chatterbox.
A current chaos manager.
A secret silence lover.
Learning to steal tiny pockets of quiet between the storms.
A few deep breaths while stirring the curry.
A moment of stillness before everyone wakes up.
That rare, magical second when all three kids are busy doing their own thing (yes, miracles exist).
Because maybe silence isn’t something we run away to…
Maybe it’s something we gently collect in small doses.
“Sometimes, the most productive thing you can do is… nothing.”
And tonight, as the house slowly settles and the noise fades into soft breathing and distant dreams, I sit in that golden silence.
Not forever.
Not even for long.
But just enough to feel like myself again.
Thought to ponder
If a simple WhatsApp status can make us pause and reflect… what else in our daily noise are we quietly missing?
Sharon's Read And Reflect 
Leave a comment