Balachandran V's "Really" questions whether the sympathy we offer others is as sincere as we claim. The speaker begins by admiring the pleasure of helping, then slips in a doubt: do we truly feel the same pain as the person who is suffering? When we condole over a death or some smaller misfortune, the speaker wonders whether what we feel is regret for them or a quiet, guilty relief that it didn't happen to us.
The mood turns more personal in the third stanza. A friend tells the speaker to relax, and the speaker's tense face, compared to the taut strings of a tennis racket, suggests real anxiety that no easy advice can fix. That image makes the poem's point felt rather than just stated. The closing lines repeat "How easy," as if comforting words cost nothing, and end on a lonely note: despite all our reassurances, we are "eons away" from each other. The tone is reflective, uneasy and quietly honest.