The quote "Silence is golden" is extremely subjective in its interpretation and highly dependent on the context of the situation to which it is applied. Is it always right to remain silent, without giving voice to one's most intimate thoughts and feelings? Or is it always best to speak openly, letting words fill the gaps that silence cannot? What if we had no choice but to remain silent? In the novel "The Hungry Tide", Amitav Ghosh represents the social class of displaced and uneducated fishermen and other primary sector workers through the character of Fokir, a young man with almost no real "voice" throughout the course of the novel. This is where we need to consider the spectrum that contains the different shades of gray between having a voice and having no voice. Being 'silenced' does not necessarily mean being deprived of a voice, a concept made clear by Fokir and his vital role in the progression of the plot. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an original essay We first hear Fokir's voice after saving Pia from drowning in a river near Canning. His character's strength and morality are immediately established as we see him risk his own life to pull her out of the tumultuous depths. The first part of the novel, entitled "The Ebb: Bhata", gives us only nine instances in which we hear Fokir's voice. Most of her dialogues are one word, but in almost all cases one word is enough for both Pia and the readers to understand her intentions and the message she is trying to convey. The first word we hear Fokir utter is "Lusibari"[1], assuring Pia that Lusibari is, indeed, the island he is taking her to. 'Lusibari' is also the last word readers hear him say in the first part. The meaning is not lost on us because "Lusibari" is the place where all the main characters of the novel meet and drive the plot of the novel in the second part. Readers quickly realize that Amitav Ghosh's economy of words when it comes to giving Fokir dialogue serves to make the numbered things he says even more important. Only by pronouncing the word 'Lusibari' was he able to leave readers with a feeling of anticipation for what was to come. Another extremely important word that Fokir says is "gamchha"[2], a Bengali word for a rough piece of cotton cloth that is traditionally used as a towel. The word is on the tip of Pia's tongue but she can't remember it, and within it lies an immense amount of culture and heritage as it sparks memories of her father. By giving voice to Pia's thoughts, readers begin to see how Ghosh uses language to represent Fokir's understanding of Pia despite the language barrier between them. It would therefore seem strange that Ghosh gave Fokir almost no voice but gave Horen, another fisherman, such a strong one. We see the character of Horen both in Nirmal's diaries and in person in the second part of the novel. This is because Fokir and Horen, although sharing the same profession, do not belong to the same social group. Horen is a generation older than Fokir; he was young when he met Kusum, Fokir's mother. He has worked as a laborer all his life, but Fokir is a young man from another era. As the world progresses, he remains a humble fisherman, a fact that greatly disturbs his wife Moyna. Another way Ghosh silences a character is by using another character's words against him. Moyna describes Fokir as "like a child" and says he does not understand the ways of the world because he is illiterate.[3] She.’[9].