Sunday, March 7, 2010


as i have grown up,i have become increasingly aware that in our society,men from adolescence upwards are not expected to cry.that only in extreme conditions can this rule be question is why?why cannot men cry as frequently as women?

those who answer with the cliched "men are stronger" are either ignorant or else hopeless chauvinistic pigs because in my short life i have come across many men and to my chagrin,found that men are actually far behind women when you compare inner strength.i repeat,inner strength,which is different from the brute strength of either muscle or intelligence quotient.males are blessed with more body mass and a higher cranial capacity,so have nothing to be proud is just the way nature made us,nothing more.

coming back to my question,a plausible answer would be that men are ashamed to cry.even in private.
on the other hand,i have experienced a great sense of satisfaction every time that i have been able to cry freely in recent times.staying in a hostel without a single room,this is very difficult,but i take my chances from time to time=]

for example,while currently reading a book,i found my eyes watering a bit too often(kite runner is that kind of a book,do read it),and i stole a furtive glance at my roomies to assure myself that i was unobserved before i let the tears fall.girls and guys reading this may find me pathetic,but what the fuck?i cry and am damn proud of it,because deep down,i am happy that the tears still come.have you ever seen a blind man?he wants to see but cannot.have you seen a cripple?he would like to run but can't.similarly,i feel sorry for the person who would like to express his/her grief through tears but sadly,can't.wouldn't you feel sorry for such a person?

here's a poem that i wrote[yes,i write poems,in case you are wondering..and for those who are thinking where i copy-pasted it from>i am not going to tell you,am i?] when i was feeling really down some time backbecause a certain someone who was special then didn't turn out to be as i thought she would,but that's another story entirely)-

i looked into my depths and saw
the decay,that had started to gnaw
at my feelings,my emotions,my desires,my dreams,
and slowly rending me away at the seams.

this decay-it's my aching heart,
now turned a loveless,rabid dog
tearing my mind slowly apart,
and filling it with despair's smog.

all 'coz of a habit that's come about,
this habit of keeping mum,
in silence now i scream and shout,
for the tears have dried and do not come.

P.S.-that poem had been lying in my wallet on a scrap of paper for the last couple of months..and i was afraid i would lose it if someone pinched my wallet,so now that it's safely stored in some great big server,i feel relieved!

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