Jungtina Jamir
I had a friend; he passed away some years back. He cried about things that hurt. Things like loneliness and a broken heart. He kept the ‘hurt’ tucked neatly in a drawer beside his bed and when he was alone at night he let them out and cried because if he didn’t cry over them, who will? He knew the world won’t care at all. If he didn’t cry, who would have?
I knew an old lonely man during my college days. He used to sit under a tree near the hostel I stayed. He was a bit eccentric. I sometimes use to talk with him and give him little food if I had any. But I tell you, he was a walking disaster, an open book begging to be read by someone who would rip and tear his pages. And that they did. They gladly took the pieces of him that he offered and they never gave them back. Yes, a walking disaster with old eyes and a whole collection of gaping holes in his chest just big enough for a heart to fall through. And I use to pray that he would tape his skin together or he would let me sew it shut for him because maybe if his body looked whole again, he would feel whole again. But he was stronger than he looked. He did not need the tape or the sewing. He was perfectly content being how he was, whether he was broken to the world or not, so long as I talked with him or someone for that matter, he said
One day, I remember, I told him about my friend who used to cry about the things that hurt. Eccentric this old man was, but he said the most amazing thing that day. He said that my talk alone isn’t enough for him to get by. But he didn’t really have a choice of anyone else, so he settled for mine and whispered to me about the sadness of love and how sometimes people aren’t how they appear.
He raised his glassless specs and choked back the tears that I wasn’t meant to see and then he began his sullen preaching on why the cows on the street keep chewing on the pile of rubbish near him.
There is a song that goes, “….When you’re feeling love’s unfair, you just ask the lonely. When you’re lost in deep despair, you just ask the lonely…”
……… lonely could be your dearest one… Think about it!
Here’s to the eccentric lonely man, a toast to love that isn’t really love, just a fake disguise in pretty paper and bows which many of us carry. And here’s to my friend whose company I’ll always miss; that I sometimes cry for you, so you’ll know that even if you don’t cry, I will.
