They told me not to cry;
after all, I am a man.
I conceal my inner grieves within me,
piling up one above others forming a wall.
Slowly the wall heightens
with the passing of each days, months, years…
Now it is high enough to hinder the views beyond it.
The wall stands in the mid
of my freedom and incarceration.
I can’t recollect anymore a world would exist there,
on the other side.
I start to climb the wall with my bare hands,
but fall down every time
rewarding with another scar.
I scream, thumping my fists on the wall.
May be I will never be able to climb it.
My weary body wants to quit,
wants to accept the eternal truth, ‘Death’.
But I have to wait till the death comes
and would make me free.
‘One last try’,
something inside me never agrees to relinquish.
I utter a solemn prayer,
asking god to give me wings to fly the wall.
I am falling again from the mid height,
but it doesn’t hurt me anymore,
I can’t feel any pain.
Am I being metamorphosed into
an inanimate objects then?
I am tired of such endless possibilities.
I feel an intense urge of deep slumber,
my somnolent eyes dozes off.
I can hear a laughter drifting from far away.
‘What is there to laugh?’- I shout at the voice
‘How imbecile you are.’
The reply comes with another set of recurrent laughter,
‘You can’t cross the wall, unless it melts’
‘But how could I make that happen?’ I ask back.
‘You have to cry’.
‘I am a man after all. Man should never cry’, I reply.
‘You have to’- the voice echoes till it wanes
into the darkness of my confined existence.
I cover my ears with both the palms,
the voice still persists there,
trenchant with same vividness.
Is it my inner voice?
like an epiphany, the mystery of god.
‘Then, did they lie to me?’
I am crying for the first time.
It floods my cheek, my chin…
I weep till the wall melts,
I weep till I get a lucid view of the lost world again,
I weep till all my tears run out,
I weep till I can feel my hurt again,
which got buried under my frozen tears for so long.
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