The Language Beneath Words
This flash essay is part of a collaborative, constrained-writing challenge undertaken by some members of the Bangalore Substack Writers Group. This month, each of us examined the concept of ‘LANGUAGE’. At the bottom of this snippet, you’ll find links to other essays by fellow writers.
Image credits: Aarti Krishnakumar
Language, in one form or another, is ingrained in every living creature. In a bird song, purring of a cat, in whispers and screams.
But what is its true purpose?
To share thoughts, ideas or emotions.
But do we really need words, or even speech, to express what we feel?
We often speak through silences. Through the most expressive part of our face—the eyes.
The eyes speak a silent language that needs no words. Just a glance is enough. It could be the way a dog looks up at a stranger expecting some love on a cold night. Or the way two strangers on a bus ride exchange looks hoping to meet soon.
Like trees in a forest that communicate through delicate underground mushroom threads—part of Mycorrhizal networks, also called Wood Wide Web. Our eyes act like those hidden bridges, quietly linking human connections. They form invisible networks of emotion, sharing silences and completing one another.
The silent language has no official name, yet everyone understands it.
You see it in your friend’s eyes when they widen upon hearing the mention of a shared memory.
The shock in the eyes of your loved one when you are about to deliver some bad news.
The eyes of a traveller waiting for his bus—anxious, vulnerable, hoping he arrives in time.
“Eyes are a portal to the soul,” as the saying goes. But what if we treated that as fact?
You get to know if a person is lost in thoughts, flying away on a thousand-mile journey. Or fearful of something that’s been bothering him all day. Even cruelty shows, in the cold terror reflected in the pupils.
Reading eyes is a fascinating exercise. It gives you a sense of a person, glimpses I’m sure no AI could ever summarize.
It is said that our eyes twitch way faster when we are asleep, deep in the dreams. Who knows who we’re talking to then. Maybe with another world, where words aren’t used and eyes do all the talking.
Why does this kind of language matter? What is its power?
Sometimes words get in the way of what we truly mean. But eyes, they seem truthful. Not always but mostly.
This way of communication shines when someone shares an experience. In the spark, the curious dilation, the unwavering focus of the eyes. So much is said that words cannot match.
Eyes can lie too. Like a smile can hide sorrow. Though, every now and then a flicker in the eye is enough to sense what is real and what is not.
But what do you do when all eyes are fixated on screens, myself included? When everyone is scrolling through kilometres of reels. Or drifting through the day on shared screens at work.
Maybe the language of the eyes is losing its speakers. That’s a tragedy for all poets out there, and a win for the screen makers. As you’re reading this on some screen, I hope you’re aware of the power your eyes hold. So, when words cease to matter someday, let your eyes have the lively flicker of truth.
Essays by Bangalore Substack Writers Group: -
Loss of a language By Rakhi Anil, Rakhi’s Substack
Beyond Words and Dialects by Aarti Krishnakumar, Aarti’s Substack
In search of my lost mother tongue by Siddhesh Raut, Shana, Ded Shana
The language question by Rahul Singh, Mehfil
Geography & Language by Devayani Khare, Geosophy
The Dance of Languages by Haridas Jayakumar, Harry
Poetic Silence - From Anand Bhavan to 3039 and back by Amit Charles, @acnotes
No Garam Aloo in Tamil Nadu by Ayush, Ayush's Substack
Lost in translation by Vikram, Vikram’s Substack
I’ve been thinking a lot about tongues, again. by Ameya, (Always) Ameya
What does this mean? by Nidhishree Venugopal, General in her Labyrinth
The Language of Murder by Gowri N Kishore | About Murder, She Wrote.
I have no words by Richa Vadini Singh, Here’s What I Think
Jal-Elephants, Thread-Navels, and Other Sanskrit Beasts by Rajat Gururaj, I came, I saw, I Floundered
Of Language, Love and Longing: Politics, Mother Tongue and Loss by Aryan Kavan Gowda, Wonderings of a Wanderer
The Bengaluru Blend by Avinash Shenoy, Off the walls
An Ode to Languages, by Lavina G, The Nexus Terrain
There’s a stillness in this piece that speaks louder than most noise. You’ve captured the ache of unspoken language with such precision and softness. It lingers — like a whisper between moments. Thank you for this gentle reminder to listen beyond words.
They say that still water runs deep. I see a quiet power in your writing amid the gentleness of your expression. Really made me not take non-verbal communication for granted. Thank you for sharing :)