Years passed by and the man still kept silent. But there came a time when his silence began to speak aloud. His silent thought would manifest, and his silent wish would become granted; his silent glance would heal, his silent look would inspire. His silence became living. It was the spoken words which had kept him dead all this time. The moment the lips were closed the silence in him began to live. His presence was living. In Hyderabad people called him Shaikh Khamush, the king of silence, or the silent king. By this I wish to imply that everyone has eyes, but to make the eyes living takes a long time. For eyes see so far and no further; it is the heart connected with the eyes that can see further, and if the soul sees through them it sees further still.