Absolute surrender to grief...

Sadness carries with it an excess baggage
- the baggage of explaining why you are sad
Then, the patience to listen to why you should not be sad
All the time, a part of you agreeing to what the other person says....
Yet, resisting the 'silver lining' thrust at you,
Refusing to let anything take this moment of grief away from you...
Pushing away cheerful rays because you want to grieve...alone...
To grieve, uninterrupted, letting the gloom wash over you
Bundling you up in its wet warmth, so that you feel yourself melting into it
When the grief becomes you and you become the grief
Letting it fill you up and flow out of you
- And finally, feeling it leave you in soft ripples
A moment bereft of all feelings
To wait, for the precise time
When a patch of sun will be seen after the eclipse
- When birds start singing again


When I am sad, I usually push it away, trying to reach out to happy people, somewhat making it slightly clear that I need help, because I want to be so desperately happy now. I tune in to happy songs, happy smiles, happy vibes, all the time, the sadness gnawing somewhere.
I hate sad songs, almost all the times.
I avoid sad novels, movies with sad endings.
And then, suddenly today, I heard this song, which I had heard long back:

'Deewaron se milkar rona achchha lagta hain'

It felt like something I was waiting for, to draw me in, and fill me up.

Updated note:
On reading through what I wrote for grief, it suddenly felt as if I was describing the summer rain...so futile to resist, so warm and wet to get drenched in it, and so much of an in-between feeling if I run away from the first few drops to dry ground.....

Counting on my fingers...sounds familiar?

What was the date again...23rd...no must be 25th....she was sure 'it' started after they had a major customer release in November....the freeze date was 22nd, so it must have been 23rd....no wait, let me see, it was a Friday, because she had planned to go shopping after office, but once it started, she felt too sick to go....so that makes it 25th....so 25th it is. Now add 28 to it, and so this month 'it' should happen on 23rd, yes, that's right.
She mentally marked the date and then thought some more. If 'it' starts on 23rd as it is supposed to, then she cannot really go on the trekking trip that same day. Might as well cancel the trip, if they cannot postpone it. But what if 'it' does not start on that day...and starts later once the trip gets postponed...
--
She felt a familiar unpleasant sensation in her stomach and grimaced, unbelievingly. Instinctively, she looked at the calendar, and then at the day-date watch on her hand. Well, it was not time yet...'it' was supposed to start next Friday...so why in the world is 'it' starting today? Should she see a doctor? Oh, forget it...'it' may not start till later....it was probably a niggling pain before it actually started...
--
She pinged her friend. 'I want some chocolate, and also feel like having cheese...'
'Ah ok, it is 'that' time of the month for you?'
'You bet...I feel like fighting with everyone today...oh hell!'
'Happens...'
--
The gynaec scribbled on the writing pad and wrote what looked like a list of doodles with balloons and loops.
"Take the first one for three days at the beginning of the cycle...then give a break of five days...then the second..."

She was still calculating the days in her mind as her husband started the car.
"Those medicines...too much calculations for you, right?" he asked, sympathetically.
She grinned. "I am used to it. Have been doing it ever since I got my first periods..."
"I see. Is that why you are so good at counting how many drinks I have in the pub?" He made a mock sad face.
"Sorry about that." She said feelingly. "But probably that's the reason, that and counting calories at the back of the chips packet..."

Inwardly, she mused, "And they say, a woman is bad in Maths..."