Really
Isn’t it a pleasure
To offer succor?
Oh yes, we are so genuine,
Touched to the heart
Feeling, we say, the same pain and sorrow
Though sometimes I wonder if we really do.
Be it death or a lesser misfortune
We condole, condemn the flippancy of fate
That dealt our kith or kin this cruelest blow.
Yet, I wonder, is it regret or relief
That predominates our minds
Regret for them and secretly, guiltily,
Relief that we have been spared for now?
My friend says – ‘Take it easy! Be cool!
Heavens won’t come falling down!’
I take a deep breath; try to loosen my facial muscles
