They don’t seem to stop some times. In spite of all my attempts, there are times when my lachrymal glands are just not under my control. The tears just roll on and on as if there is no tomorrow.
When I have such pangs, I literally clutch my heart, lest I choke myself. There is an upheaval within me which if I don’t let out, threatens to suffocate me. I feel shrouded with grief. I feel I will never be able to come out of the envelope of sorrow. I beseech the heavens to relieve me of the pain. I think of brighter times so that I can feel better. Sometimes in a masochistic stint, I scratch the wound even more. I try to prod the cause of distress and cry it all out, so that my eyes are dried of the tears.
But no. Nothing works.
With my will failing me, I just let the tears roll on.
Oblivious to surroundings, unconcerned about what people might think – I just cry. I have cried unabashedly on the benches in a teeming mall. I have cried inconsolably in the departure lounges of airports. I have cried with reckless abandon in public transports, telephone booths (prior to the age of cell phones); eat outs and many other places under full public glare. I am not a person who is comfortable displaying her emotions and would prefer to drench my pillow rather than create a scene. But some times in spite of myself, I have had such uncomfortable instances, where I seem to be under free fall under the influence of the feeling of despair.
Generally after this emotional catharsis I feel drained.
The analysis of the events that lead to ‘pain causing situation’ wrecks me.
Insignificant things keep reminding of what went wrong, or how things might have been.
I fall into a reverie and feel a stir of distress at ubiquitous sights and sounds and smells. The heart inundated with pain, takes time to see the sunshine over the horizon.
I pray to God, after each such episode not to make me pass through such trauma again. But then… life’s sky is not always azure…