"When he said it , he never meant it.When he truly meant it , he couldn't say it. And finally when he could , it was profoundly irrelevant." This is perhaps the newly evolved characteristic of the modern metrosexual man, the santimantelle man , so to say. Callous , as some of us are, we do pretend to bother about things, things we're expected to be bothered about, but I guess , sooner or later , the inevitable yet camouflaged feeling of indifference shows out.
Have you ever seen a man cry ? I haven't. Having said this I'm quite sure , we all have seen unsuspecting women shedding tears as if they were contracted to fill the proverbial buckets. So, what does this imply, by the general sense of perception? Maybe, men are less exposed to such circumstances. And then I ask myself , are we? or are we not? May be calamity never struck us . Heavens never fell upon us. If at all they did, they were never too heavy. If at all they were hard to bear , not hard enough to make us cry, not in front of women at least.
It may be the inner secret for some, revelations for the others , but men do cry. And when they do , heavens fall apart , the helplessness of the crying man is as unfathomable as the depth of the ocean. One is thrown open to speculating , what in the world could be hard enough , to make a man, who is , quite ironically , the pretentious iconism of strength and apathy, sulk inconsolably. When they taught us " relative value " , never had I imagined I would use this to compare the worth of a man's tears to a woman's. It's commonplace to see women crying, and when you do see one , you think , something might be wrong. Quite on the contrary , you see a man crying , though I'm sure he won't cry publicly , we're not built that way you see , but if at all you do , you tell him , these tears are the investments you've made for your entire life , cry , cry your heart out , the more you cry now , the more apathetic you become , the more unperturbed you are by the world around you, the more satisfied you'd be with what you have , and finally , when you'll become almost indifferent to every wordly or other wordly emotion that tends to circumscribe your atmosphere, they'll start calling you the proverbial " man".
For the blabber mouth I am I have to add that personal comment. Well, I'd say , I'm yet to shed my fair share of tears. I'll rather save them for my post married life. I'm pretty sure, with the unanimously criticized traits I possess , I'm bound to give my wife company , as and when she cries cursing the very day she married me , and then, even though it may seem ironical , I'll cry with her , consoling her , and then perhaps telling her : you couldn't have managed anything better than me you see, we're both equally stuck and then in the midst of all the pandemonium happening , I'd say : khaane mein kya hai? , only to see a set of brows raising in wicked amazement.
Have you ever seen a man cry ? I haven't. Having said this I'm quite sure , we all have seen unsuspecting women shedding tears as if they were contracted to fill the proverbial buckets. So, what does this imply, by the general sense of perception? Maybe, men are less exposed to such circumstances. And then I ask myself , are we? or are we not? May be calamity never struck us . Heavens never fell upon us. If at all they did, they were never too heavy. If at all they were hard to bear , not hard enough to make us cry, not in front of women at least.
It may be the inner secret for some, revelations for the others , but men do cry. And when they do , heavens fall apart , the helplessness of the crying man is as unfathomable as the depth of the ocean. One is thrown open to speculating , what in the world could be hard enough , to make a man, who is , quite ironically , the pretentious iconism of strength and apathy, sulk inconsolably. When they taught us " relative value " , never had I imagined I would use this to compare the worth of a man's tears to a woman's. It's commonplace to see women crying, and when you do see one , you think , something might be wrong. Quite on the contrary , you see a man crying , though I'm sure he won't cry publicly , we're not built that way you see , but if at all you do , you tell him , these tears are the investments you've made for your entire life , cry , cry your heart out , the more you cry now , the more apathetic you become , the more unperturbed you are by the world around you, the more satisfied you'd be with what you have , and finally , when you'll become almost indifferent to every wordly or other wordly emotion that tends to circumscribe your atmosphere, they'll start calling you the proverbial " man".
For the blabber mouth I am I have to add that personal comment. Well, I'd say , I'm yet to shed my fair share of tears. I'll rather save them for my post married life. I'm pretty sure, with the unanimously criticized traits I possess , I'm bound to give my wife company , as and when she cries cursing the very day she married me , and then, even though it may seem ironical , I'll cry with her , consoling her , and then perhaps telling her : you couldn't have managed anything better than me you see, we're both equally stuck and then in the midst of all the pandemonium happening , I'd say : khaane mein kya hai? , only to see a set of brows raising in wicked amazement.
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