Phoenix still buried in the ashes…why do men cry?

Just when I was making a superhuman effort to catch up with work and an assorted mess of intolerable people, inefficient practices and bureaucratic deadwood at office, just when I was on second wind and pulling out all the stops and using the last few ounces of physical and mental endurance I had left in me… just when I was in sight of the finish line, just when I thought victory was inevitable… Fate overtook me and crossed the finish line first…

Suddenly, after waiting till I was just about to celebrate… in one fell swoop, fate showed me who’s boss… showed me that just when you think you’ve killed all the dragons, crossed all the mountains and won every battle… life presents you with an obstacle so huge, monstrous and invincible, all your previous accomplishments seem inconsequential…

After what looked like a fight I was about to win hands-down, life dealt a quick, sharp blow that left my nose bleeding and me feeling like I want to cry like an infant…

Somebody who really matters to me, somebody who I can never bear to see in pain, somebody who happens to have the miraculous skill of being able to relieve me of any negative feeling, suffering or hurt, had to, before my eyes, undergo a neck biopsy last evening with me standing there feeling intensely helpless about not being able to do anything to alleviate the pain… that image stuck around with me even after the procedure was complete, all through a sleepless night, through a warm, ugly, headache-inducing morning…

I gathered myself up… and dragged my tattered soul, still lagging a few steps behind my tired body… towards the daily grind at work… climbed a cab and switched on the radio on my phone at max volume to drown out all the wailing that my conscience was doing…

Nothing on any of the channels seemed to distract me enough, and I kept switching between channels, until I heard a familiar chord, a song that we used to love… after the first few notes… the song seemed to fill me up… and I broke down… and wept… quietly, with my hand in front of my face so nobody could see my tears…

When I was younger, I used to feel proud and manly about my ability to take any kind of situation in my stride without breaking down, without crying… but this time, for probably the first time in several years… I couldn’t stop the tears…

I felt strange… embarassed… weird…

I still don’t know why I cried… my soul will heal, just like the biopsy wound… the biopsy results may not indicate anything serious… I knew
that… but I suddenly felt weak…. very weak…

But, you know what… I don’t care what life presents me with… I’ll fight it… keep them coming…
I’ll bleed through this, but I won’t stand down… I’ll laugh at the pain, till it stops, or until I stop feeling it… but I won’t go down without a fight…
and no matter what Fate has in store for me, I will overcome… but not for myself… for someone else… for the first time in my life I feel convinced
about fighting for somebody else… I’m not scared anymore… weak maybe, but not scared…

I know nothing may go wrong, it may all be all right tomorrow and the biopsy may not indicate anything more than common cold, but even if it
doesn’t, I’m ready for it… I don’t know where I’ll find the strength for it, but I’m ready nevertheless… and Phoenix will rise… from the ashes again, victorious…

[Disclaimer: This is one of the posts from my first ever blog, that is now defunct. Though amateur, and in some cases silly, I did want to retain an archive of everything I have ever written in the blogosphere. Thank you for your patience]