understood silence

He was looking out of the bus window, out of no particular desire of his, but to avoid wearing a few fake smiles he no longer wanted to after a long day at office. He wanted to breathe out all the general angst and lack of warmth he had come to identify his office and his colleagues with. A familiar scent of deo disturbed him, a familiar change in the temperature; he looked around, a very familiar face. She paused for a moment and after exchanging hushed greetings took the seat besides him.
Last time he talked to her over phone, she was curt - "yeah" "hmm" "maybe" "i would not know" "nothing" "hmmmm" "everything's OK". It was as if she was struggling to say and few words and really struggling to hold back a few more. Silence, one realizes is the most palatable form of communication. Words, voice only complicate things with and without our permission. They exchanged civilities, asked a few questions that had the answers in them, replied with few more questions and deviations. The silence in between, his raised eyebrows, her downcast eyelids, his rubbing of palms, her looking at her the torn sheet cover, his strange smile, her shifting in the seat and the pauses between their sentences conveyed so much more that what they actually uttered.

Sometimes too much understanding becomes a problem. Then no questions are asked, no anger is expressed, no explanations are given, no excuses necessary. It all becomes so redundant. Nobody is blamed, not even the time, nor the circumstances; everyone is sympathized, understood. Hopes burnt, are seen as clothes that we could do without, dreams crashed are negated as 'mere' dreams, possibility is deemed as inevitability and action or inaction as fate.