They say you see the sincerest hugs and most tear-filled farewells at airports and train stations.
True.
I'm never great with 'Goodbyes' and 'See you laters'.
Men are culture trained to not show how much they miss people dear to them.
It's tough every time it's time to leave, or let go. I have friends and family who occasionally visit me, and no matter how much I've conditioned myself to not feel the pain, I do.
It's like every bone in your body is painlessly crumbling, every muscle spasms as it would if we were deep underwater, every sense in your body disappears. You look like you're hungover and you feel even worse. If there was a medicine that could help you prevent this pain, you would've have pawned yourself to get that. If there was a doctor who could cure this, you would have begged him to look at you. Your home is no longer that warm place it was before they arrived. It is almost like they've taken away every lamp and snuffed the fire from within.
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I'm reminded of how my dad would bid me farewell towards the last few years. He knew I loved his smile and he would cloak his sorrow within one.
His eyes would moisten even as he fought to stop it from brimming over. He would want me to hurry on my journey, but if you'd stay a minute longer, you'd see the tears streaming. He was too much of a 'man' to allow strangers see his tears.
Now, several years later, I realize I do the same when it is time to leave.
I find myself in excruciating emotional pain when it's time.
24 hours before 'the departure', I begin to miss them.
I choke as the moment arrives. I wonder what is going through their heads and hearts. I want to keep a brave face and not let them know of the darkness I am in. As I grope and feel my way out, at some point, I want to get this over with. I want to let them go so that I can mourn in desolation.
With the finesse of a weightlifter, I want to make it look simple and joyous even when I dread going back to an empty house. All the fancy furniture is still here, with none of the soul of togetherness and laughter.
My dad made me realise that you could have a home filled with people, yet when someone dear to you leaves, they take away a part of you. Ditto!
As the pain dulls, and the memories remain.
You want to know when you'll meet again...
You know technology has warped distances again.
Yet you know it won't ever be the same...
Separation is a cruel thing.
I wish it would not sting!
Like everything else, this is temporary
Until the heart learns to unlearn memory.
We are trained to chin up,
We are expected to grunt.
But through it all, we are reminded 'Men can't cry'.
Solitude is a cruel thing.
I wish it would not sting!
No matter how many times people have left you, seeing yourself let that person go is still the greatest pain a common man can experience.
Image Courtesy: Wet Paint
True.
I'm never great with 'Goodbyes' and 'See you laters'.
Men are culture trained to not show how much they miss people dear to them.
It's tough every time it's time to leave, or let go. I have friends and family who occasionally visit me, and no matter how much I've conditioned myself to not feel the pain, I do.
It's like every bone in your body is painlessly crumbling, every muscle spasms as it would if we were deep underwater, every sense in your body disappears. You look like you're hungover and you feel even worse. If there was a medicine that could help you prevent this pain, you would've have pawned yourself to get that. If there was a doctor who could cure this, you would have begged him to look at you. Your home is no longer that warm place it was before they arrived. It is almost like they've taken away every lamp and snuffed the fire from within.
I'm reminded of how my dad would bid me farewell towards the last few years. He knew I loved his smile and he would cloak his sorrow within one.
His eyes would moisten even as he fought to stop it from brimming over. He would want me to hurry on my journey, but if you'd stay a minute longer, you'd see the tears streaming. He was too much of a 'man' to allow strangers see his tears.
Now, several years later, I realize I do the same when it is time to leave.
I find myself in excruciating emotional pain when it's time.
24 hours before 'the departure', I begin to miss them.
I choke as the moment arrives. I wonder what is going through their heads and hearts. I want to keep a brave face and not let them know of the darkness I am in. As I grope and feel my way out, at some point, I want to get this over with. I want to let them go so that I can mourn in desolation.
With the finesse of a weightlifter, I want to make it look simple and joyous even when I dread going back to an empty house. All the fancy furniture is still here, with none of the soul of togetherness and laughter.
My dad made me realise that you could have a home filled with people, yet when someone dear to you leaves, they take away a part of you. Ditto!
As the pain dulls, and the memories remain.
You want to know when you'll meet again...
You know technology has warped distances again.
Yet you know it won't ever be the same...
Separation is a cruel thing.
I wish it would not sting!
Like everything else, this is temporary
Until the heart learns to unlearn memory.
We are trained to chin up,
We are expected to grunt.
But through it all, we are reminded 'Men can't cry'.
Solitude is a cruel thing.
I wish it would not sting!
No matter how many times people have left you, seeing yourself let that person go is still the greatest pain a common man can experience.
Image Courtesy: Wet Paint