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Om Dhake

Others


4.8  

Om Dhake

Others


Suppressants

Suppressants

4 mins 175 4 mins 175

After so many years, I still suppress!

All the tears yearning to have a flow out...

I can't, I was taught, I am a boy

And everyone says - 'Boys don't cry'

"Why can't we?",I demand;

Just shedding a few tears in silence 

And let the tears converse with an expression...

But no, boys have to be firm and tears 

on their faces paint a cowardly impression. 

At the moment, I have forgotten the last time;

When I'd cried, a blur faded day of childhood maybe...

Worse, feeling of frozen tears at corners of the eye


Akhil was lying nearly lifeless. But no, he isn't near to death now, it had been a close shave. A heart transplant is more difficult to manage than what you think, and yes the same topic had created swirls of trepidation and anxiety in Akhil's mind as he was on the onset of starting a new journey, with a heart that wasn't completely his.

Though he knew his thoughts were not reverberating any sense in true means, he felt comfort in clinging on the rope of skeptical views.

The biggest question that nudged his mind was - 'Why had so many clots formed in his heart?'...No addictions, proper diet, a healthy lifestyle, and still, a heart transplant is what a person like me gets written in his destiny for no reason. 

Everything happens for a reason. Yes, even I want to believe this, but my rational mind denies to accept that all the tears that I refused allowance to play their role on the stage, had somehow conspired at the backstage and had solidified the sorrow in the vessels of my heart.

" Better you don't cry the next time " - I can still sense the mixed essence of anger and shame in one of the warnings of my father when I had buried down my sobs then. Just because I had cried in front of one of our visitors, I was scolded badly by him. That day, I understood, or rather my father made me understand that tears aren't tokens of sorrow, but the marks of weakness and the intricate cause of humiliation.


Many times had I felt like crying out in front of everyone, letting the caged birds called 'tears' fly and lighten everything around me. But I didn't have the courage, and I would make sure no one watched me when I used to cry my heart out. Getting caught with tears welled up in the eyes was equally a nightmare for me.

I remember the day, how can I even forget that? Bad memories keep on stinging, no matter how much you feel like don't having them. My best friend had betrayed me, I was feeling lonely, completely lost, and still everyone expected of me to abide by the rule of not shedding tears.

Making models had always amused me, and as usual, I was the participant in Genius Project Fest 2013 too. Being in junior college had its own advantages, it highlights your college days with a tinge of colors of freedom and expression. 


We had two projects (models)in school. Though I was not on good terms with the other competitor from my college, I had never thought he would stab me in the back.

I was not there at home due to some reasons. (Don't worry about date or time, it's not that important )And this competitor( in fact now I should call him a rival!) of mine, arrived at my home and easily got access to my model by lying to my family that he was my partner in the project team.

And I can't even think about it now, the horrible state of my model still has kept the flicker of anger and hatred burning till day. Shattered into pieces, the apparatus lying scattered around. How could he do such a thing? In just a few minutes, he had pulled down the model to the trash and shattered my dream forever.

Tears, yes they came for my help, but I refused it. As that would create an ado about nothing, I just wiped the few tears that had flown down my cheek and pretended as I was a firm person who never got affected even by so shocking loss. But down there in the heart, I could see myself crying, not getting over this setback to my path.


To date, I suffered at many moments and each time my eyes had been an embankment to the gushing waters of sorrow. But today, I didn't feel like holding my tears back. 

Immunosuppressants have become a part of my life, not very long back but just a couple of weeks before. And as I reached out my hand to grab the pills, my eyes somehow got welled up with tears.

I knew they had got tired of their job and so I didn't force them to hold back tears anymore. Pearls of realization shined on my wet face as I found a new personality staring me in the mirror. 


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