Tears

Tears are confusing.

I get them when I’m angry. Those are the boiled ones. They appear without a warning and before you know, the voice, the face, the screen, the idea against which I’m battling them fogs over and uncertainty creeps in. Have you ever closed an excited, barking dog’s eyes as it pranced around you? That startles it.

Then the happy ones. They’re welcome. I think we mix happy with relief. No. I don’t cry when I am relieved. I smile and walk on. Literally. With feet-movement. But happy is that Aahan-wali feeling.

I think I am a walking, breathing corpse when I am sad, though. When Acchappa died, I was there, walking about like the housekeeping- doing the work and with no real relation to the person there. When SNIFF was stomped out, I had run out of tears, but I felt the sadness.

Sometimes, though, there’s this unidentified stimulus that sets the waters rolling. It’s like someone’s twisting my insides. Like today, when I read that book and all I wanted was to hear his voice. Any other sound is only inviting more agitated tears. I want to stop them- he sure doesn’t cry because he hasn’t heard my voice. Why do I, then?

But the problem here is tears. They only exaggerate the emotion in the real world. The way they cannot be stopped offends my ego. I wish they could be spoken to, man-to-man, so that they’d have a role, and specific timing of arrival.

And they’re salty, so not a fan.

The chink in your armour.

Let me fix it for you today.

Let me fill in the gap.

Let me touch the place that feels most vulnerable.

Let me kiss the forehead and iron the wrinkles

The battle is not a battle at all.

It’s alright.

It will be okay.

It will be better.

I’ll make it better.

Open your eyes again.

Tell me you are fine.

That I’m the one who needs repairing.

But sit quiet as I love you more.

Each pain removed, every wound healed.

Or healing, but give me a moment.

Let me apologise for them all

Sit quiet and wince a little so I kiss your eyes

And drive away the puddles that threaten to flow.

Hold my hand tighter, hurt me a little even

But don’t, don’t stop me from this

This is not the end

This isn’t a beginning

There’s no promise of when the world will stop

To hurt you, expose you, belittle you

But this is only a moment of pain

Let me make it insignificant again

Let my words be a wand

I’ll swish them around you,

And the worries are gone

Let your hopes rest somewhere else

You deserve more than me

You deserve more than anyone I know

Anyone I imagine

Just please this once let me be selfish

And be the one to make it better

Every breath will be happier,

And I will hear you smile

You’re my knight, you’re my sanity

Let me protect you, save you this once

You aren’t alone. You will never be.

Just hold on tighter to me.

As I clean the slightest wound

And you lay back, at rest and less unsure.

You heal, and I will be cured.

Silences.

I always thought they were a necessity. But nights like these twist my insides because I lay hoping you’d say something. Anything.