February 28, 2008

Secret Sorrows

Someone committed suicide today. About a couple of hours back...somewhere around Connaught Place. This man was well educated, financially well off and had recently returned from United States. Wonder what drove him to take such a gruesome step. But then life goes on.... he’ll gradually fade away from everyone's memory.... only for his aging parents perhaps.... tragic for them.... They’ll be devastated, living every moment wondering what went wrong, analyzing their dead son's life bit by bit.... assessing themselves bit by bit…

Then again there's this mad woman who wanders around my hostel. At times, I find her sitting on the footpath, blabbering away.... I wonder what she must be thinking about...who or what drove her to such madness?
Errant son? Death in the family? Wayward husband? Some other family problem? I wonder what has made her so miserable.... There have been days, this winter, when I saw her without a sweater or shawl...without a care in the world. Sitting on the same footpath...blabbering away...Tried coaxing her to shift to the safer side of the footpath...but she wouldn't budge...kept murmuring in a strange language...

Two sad people...sad for different reasons.

“Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.”

- H. W. Longfellow

1 comment:

Das Übermench said...

O man, take care!
What does the deep midnight declare?
"I was asleep—
From a deep dream I woke and swear:—
The world is deep,
Deeper than day had been aware.
Deep is its woe—
Joy—deeper yet than agony:
Woe implores: Go!
But all joy wants eternity—
Wants deep, wants deep eternity.