It was an office meeting. Two of my team mates and myself were going thru some intense discussions about an important professional decision we have to make for our business in the coming months. As we started wrapping up our discussions, we started talking about the passing away of a pet of one of my teammates.

He was particularly affected since he was very close to this pet. But more importantly the discussion was about how stoically his wife had taken to this sad passage….. till an innocuous event like he sharing a very old picture of the pet with his wife got her to completely break down.

Reminded me of an Alfred Tennyson poem – on the importance of crying. After my friends left, I looked up the poem and read it up again. It is a master stroke of Tennyson to convey the importance of crying as a natural way to relieve your inner feelings. And the wisdom of somebody who is ninety years old!!!!

Home They Brought Her Warrior Dead

Home they brought her warrior dead:
She nor swooned, nor uttered cry:
All her maidens, watching, said,
‘She must weep or she will die.’

Then they praised him, soft and low,
Called him worthy to be loved,
Truest friend and noblest foe;
Yet she neither spoke nor moved.

Stole a maiden from her place,
Lightly to the warrior stepped,
Took the face-cloth from the face;
Yet she neither moved nor wept.

Rose a nurse of ninety years,
Set his child upon her knee—
Like summer tempest came her tears—
‘Sweet my child, I live for thee.’

Alfred Lord Tennyson

“Jis chirag ko apney dum sey jalayaa hai
Usi chirag ne mera aashiyaan jalayaa hai
Bachata tha jisko hawa ke ek jhonkey se bhi main
Usi ney aaj mujhe gehri toofan mein phansaaya hai”

Translation:

The flame (of love) which I fanned with my breath
Is the same flame that has burnt my world to cinders
She, who I shielded even from the most gentle breeze
Has, indeed, today left me in the midst of a raging storm

(Unknown poet)