MEN DO NOT CRY

Picture Courtesy: www.feedthechildren.org


Growing up,
Daddy told me this much,
Men do not cry son,
That’s not what men do,
They’re tough and strong,
He neglected add,
Men are human too
And crying is human too.
I happily subscribed to that doctrine
Till one fine morning,
When I happened to stroll rather foolishly on the
Wrong side of my class two teacher,
And she gladly straightened me out.


I was busy making a nuisance of myself
At the back of the class while she taught.
As she looked down her horn-rimmed glasses
In my direction,
I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand,
I tried averting her gaze,
But it was as though a vice held my head in place,
She called me to the front of the class,
Had me hunched over a desk,
And flogged the talkative out of me,
Though in pain from all that flogging,
There was a far more painful experience for me,
Daddy had told me this,
Men do not cry,
Yet there I was,
My willful eyes,
Threatening the age old doctrine of
Men do not cry with a sword,
While I looked on helpless,
It was as though my eyes had declared independence.


The walk from the front of the class
To my seat at the back proved the
Longest I have ever taken on my
Own two feet to this very day,
Walking rather gingerly,
I managed fight tears till I made it to my seat,
My only reason being,
The girl I fancied in the class,
Sat somewhere in the middle row,
In pigtails with rosy cheeks,
What message could I possibly send her
By crying in front of the entire class?


The very second my bum touched my seat,
I placed my head on the table as though in prayer,
I believe you all do know,
It’s pretty needless to say,
But I’ll say it anyway,
I cried my eyes out to the sound of
The voice of my class teacher teaching arithmetic,
Men did cry after all,
Though in a somewhat discrete manner.