Not All Can Weep

It has not stopped raining since the two hours I arrived back home from the cafe. They say when it rains God is weeping with us. I am a spiritual agnostic with beliefs tending more towards the notion of an unbiased Supreme-Soul in a Spirit Dimension than a benevolent God above this illusionary Universe. To me the ideas pertaining to God are tragically twisted and erroneously established as per the understanding of our human race. Regardless, even if I am wrong and God is there weeping with us, what happens when someone is limitlessly happy at the moment lost souls are mourning? Is God not catering to their needs? Or is God oblivious to their joy? Is God weeping in their happiness? Or is everyone weeping?

But not all can weep.

 

 The moment I confessed to him I am over him, a tingling restlessness has persisted in my bosom; the same kind I possess when I have professed to something I end up regretting.

Then, tears came up in to my eyes but they would not flow. Maybe, I did not want him to see them, come near me, hold me and comfort me but what happened when he departed soon after, why did my tears not flow then? I concluded it must have been the wind preventing them from coming out, that maybe the winds did not want me to weep. But they did not flow even when I chained myself to the confines of my windowless study. There is only a skylight which I keep closed, there was and is no wind blowing here. Where is it to stop me from weeping now? Why don’t my tears flow now? I have even foolishly tried holding my breath after emptying my lungs so that no air can hold them back. I believe all air is part of an endless blowing wind.

It has been an hour doing this.

The tears still do not flow.

 

The past must be the Truth we search for in our present: unchangeable, undeniable. I try to forget I met him today after several years and consequently trying to forget anything that was said though it is never easy to forget something that affects you. Only the restlessness increases; it fades away temporarily but it is always there. I keep asking myself why it affects me so after so many years?! Or was it only yesterday? It must be easier to rectify mistakes sooner than later. The later you take the action (as I did) the more reactions will accumulate. Those reactions are like small rivulets heading towards their parent river. Any of it did not happen yesterday though how I wish it did. Then, I did not part ways with him with an unresolved fight but only with an unsaid detachment enveloped in incomplete closures; he had already detached himself away from me, for then unclear reasons, before I could. At the moment it seemed the best thing to do.

Presently, even the moral of the Mahabharata just made more sense: ‘What may seem for the greater good may not be’. Vaguely similarly, it is only the broken shards of a vessel which harm you not its whole self; we only admire the imperfection of the vessel’s external beauty rather than dread its inner faculties. And no matter how perfectly they join and stick, there is always those cracks reminding us where it broke. The phrase ‘Better late than never’, now, seems subjective to every individual’s actions more than ever.

When I ask myself if I still love him, the answer resonates clear: No; then why does this restlessness persist so? Why would my tears still not flow?

 

I read somewhere:

“No better love than love with no object,

No work more satisfying than work with no purpose.

If you could give up tricks and cleverness,

That would be the cleverest trick.”

My love to him had no purpose or never did I dream of it lasting forever; we both knew this. We always hoped it to be simple and often the simplest of things are the most complicated. Maybe I focused too much on not having a purpose that it became a purpose in itself; Life does like its subtle ironical paradoxes. A time comes in every person’s life when they learn from their mistakes but it does not come easy or cheap: it is not easy for one must accept they made mistakes; it is not cheap for the price one must pay to have committed those mistakes. I have accepted my mistakes, even paid for them, yet my eyes are not empty still and I wonder why would my tears still not flow?

 

At the time he did say a lot of unwanted circumstances were taking place in his life just as I had my own melancholic burden to bear. It is a fact I have always found a person who is more unfortunate than me. There must be someone whose tears do not even reach their eyes; at least I have some in mine. Whose grief is greater: One whose tears do not flow or one who cannot have tears at all?

 

Perhaps I am too self-centred to think only I am unhappy. Perhaps he has had his own misfortunes whilst we were separated and oblivious to each other’s lives. Perhaps this thought is what prevents my tears from flowing. Perhaps my soul knows that once the tears flow there is no damming them. Perhaps I will know all the answers and my tears would still not flow.

Reviews

[icelandicblue]

Life can be a kind of shill game where the odds seem stacked against you. Despair, depression and disappointment eat at our souls while we claw away for some light. I feel the depth of your words.

[Dara]

My first impression after reading this is perhaps the pain was too deep yet and would not allow the relief of tears to flow. At any rate, this is a very moving well thought out piece and one that I will want to read several times to have it all sink in. Well done!

[Isabel25]

Hmm. I have nothing to say to this and still i have every say in this situation i guess. If u r going thru this then it sucks...but misery loves company u know :/ I am not commenting on the relatability (okay i dnt know if tats a word...whatever) quotient of this piece as u wud already know about it. I pretty much saw me everywhere in this. Damn it :)

[Stonz P.]

A movie 'Chungking Express' had its characters talk about how tears could flow endlessly. I got the idea for what if they wouldn't flow.
I mixed mashed exaggerated a few situations to suit the story.

I don't know actually.. I've used the word too..if people understand what it means, I don't see why it cannot be.

I'm glad you could relate to it despite it, in my opinion, not being a good depiction of a woman's perspective.
It's good to see you...