My Silence
Thought I'd tell you about the 2 minutes silence yesterday, in memory of those killed last Thursday.
Unlike most silences, the Mayor of London (never sure if that's referring to the person or the office) said everyone should stand outside their offices for the 2 minutes, rather than just sit at their desk as is the custom. This made the whole event much more visible, no doubt a sign of defiance and solidarity for all to see; and a more shared experience than the usual remembrance silences. At about five-to 12 we all trouped downstairs and stood outside the front of the building. It was an unusual chance to see all of the cute girls that we never get a chance to meet from our building (and the other buildings around), although we didn't get to meet them as obviously we couldn't talk to them. We stood in silence in the sunshine, no one really telling us when 12pm exactly was so we all slowly merged into one silence. The whole of London seemed to be silent apart from a couple of cars that drove past. Apparently buses and taxis pulled over, aeroplanes stopped taking off and landing, I'd like to think even the city traders stopped trading.
During the Two Minutes I didn't really know what to think of. I guess I was supposed to be thinking of the Victims, but I found them hard to ponder in such an artificial and orchestrated way. I saw my participation in the silence more as a sign of respect than a chance to reflect. I'd done plenty of reflecting in the past week: travelling on the tube; slowly passing through Kings Cross at 5mph past the deserted platform, as if I were on a ghost train; walking though busy and not-so-busy railway stations wondering "what if"; wondering why train drivers insist we take all our belonging with us, when the murderers were happy enough to keep theirs with them at all times and share the fate of their victims.
During my two minutes I stole glances at girls across the street. I had my hands in my pockets until, remembering myself and the cause, I clasped them behind my back and bowed my head. But I was there, with everyone else and for the same reason.
And then it was over; the building security guard thanked us and people ambled back to their offices. We ambled off to lunch outside the Tate Modern.
Anyway, this weekend I'm trying to organise a road-trip somewhere. I think I need to give my car some TLC as it failed it's MOT last weekend. There was something wrong with the break shoes, so it wasn't too safe really from about Christmas (when I first noticed the symptoms) to now! It was all fixed on Monday. Hopefully I'll clean it tomorrow and maybe drive to Warwick or Stratford or somewhere nice with "the guys"; hopefully the breaks were fixed properly...
Unlike most silences, the Mayor of London (never sure if that's referring to the person or the office) said everyone should stand outside their offices for the 2 minutes, rather than just sit at their desk as is the custom. This made the whole event much more visible, no doubt a sign of defiance and solidarity for all to see; and a more shared experience than the usual remembrance silences. At about five-to 12 we all trouped downstairs and stood outside the front of the building. It was an unusual chance to see all of the cute girls that we never get a chance to meet from our building (and the other buildings around), although we didn't get to meet them as obviously we couldn't talk to them. We stood in silence in the sunshine, no one really telling us when 12pm exactly was so we all slowly merged into one silence. The whole of London seemed to be silent apart from a couple of cars that drove past. Apparently buses and taxis pulled over, aeroplanes stopped taking off and landing, I'd like to think even the city traders stopped trading.
During the Two Minutes I didn't really know what to think of. I guess I was supposed to be thinking of the Victims, but I found them hard to ponder in such an artificial and orchestrated way. I saw my participation in the silence more as a sign of respect than a chance to reflect. I'd done plenty of reflecting in the past week: travelling on the tube; slowly passing through Kings Cross at 5mph past the deserted platform, as if I were on a ghost train; walking though busy and not-so-busy railway stations wondering "what if"; wondering why train drivers insist we take all our belonging with us, when the murderers were happy enough to keep theirs with them at all times and share the fate of their victims.
During my two minutes I stole glances at girls across the street. I had my hands in my pockets until, remembering myself and the cause, I clasped them behind my back and bowed my head. But I was there, with everyone else and for the same reason.
And then it was over; the building security guard thanked us and people ambled back to their offices. We ambled off to lunch outside the Tate Modern.
Anyway, this weekend I'm trying to organise a road-trip somewhere. I think I need to give my car some TLC as it failed it's MOT last weekend. There was something wrong with the break shoes, so it wasn't too safe really from about Christmas (when I first noticed the symptoms) to now! It was all fixed on Monday. Hopefully I'll clean it tomorrow and maybe drive to Warwick or Stratford or somewhere nice with "the guys"; hopefully the breaks were fixed properly...
0 replies:
Post a Comment