Being expressive comes with its costs!

Trailer of one movie, then of another. Short advertisement. Trailer of another upcoming movie.

Cigarette smoking is injurious to health.

All the characters and incidents in this film are imaginary; resemblance to any person dead or alive is purely coincidental.

The film is generated by shooting and computer graphics and no cruelty has been inflicted on the animals during the process of shooting.

And finally the movie for which we all paid huge bucks started after long twelve minutes.

I was sitting between Roy and Alex. Only Alex agreed to come with me and Roy for this movie. A movie which rest of our group declared just another rom-com of Bollywood and preferred not to waste their money at. We, at least I, enjoyed our movie from the start till the end.

“How did you like the movie, Roy?” I asked specifically Roy because being seated by his side, I could see him clearing his eyes minutes after minutes from the corner of my eye.

“It was okay-okay. Didn’t like that much.”

I was not much convinced with his response as it was a contradiction to what I saw.

“In fact I slept in some part of the movie. I don’t even remember for how much time did I sleep”, Roy added.

Liar. Liar. Liar. “You are lyi……” Before I could accuse Roy of lying my phone rang.

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“Hey guys, did you check this new video.” Alex entered in the class waving her phone as if it was a trophy she had won for her basketball tournament (which she actually did too. Yesterday).
“What video?” We all said almost in unison.

She sat on her seat and we all surrounded her like hunters surround their prey; the video started, and coincidentally the video started with a scene of forest only.

“Heyyyy! What are you all watching?” Roy came thumping and stood beside me. He didn’t miss any major part of the video but only the part where some tribal people were dancing on their song.
It was a long ten minutes emotional video but worth that time.

It was not much of a thing of past when I, Alex and Roy went for the movie, and today again I noticed something. Though not tears this time, but something else; reddish nose, flat lips, and a tightened throat. The moment video finished I turned to my side to talk to Roy. Before I could say something he walked out of the classroom with his long steps. But this time I was adamant too, I had to talk to him.

I followed him calling out his name aloud, but it seemed he was adamant too to not to listen to me. I ran faster and grabbed him through his bag. “What is the issue man?” I asked him. Today only I realized how strong he is. It took all my energy to make him face me. That nose was still red.

“How does it matter to you? Just go away please”, Roy told me in his trembling voice.

Whole corridor was empty. It was just Roy and me.

“Say it Roy. What is it?”

He got his eyes fixed on the floor for some time and then turned to the side of the park.
“I was in tenth standard when my dad shifted to Delhi. With this shifting my school changed too. Being an extrovert it didn’t take me much time to befriend new people. They seemed nice, that is what I thought then. Then one day I had a huge argument with one of my friends. It went on for days and days and one day I lost it, I couldn’t control it during our argument. I didn’t even realize it but tears started dripping down my face.
All of my friends including the one I was fighting with, kept on staring at me with their eyes wide open for some time. As I cleared my tears, they all started laughing and calling me out with names – girly boy, weakling.” He took a pause. “I never felt so embarrassed in my life. I became their laughing stock. They used to pick anything up on me, and start asking me – Cry baby cry. It was humiliating. It hurt me but they never cared. That was the time when I decided I would never cry again. I didn’t want to be marked as a weakling because I am not weak.”

“No Roy. If tears were sign of being weak, you probably would not consider your mom strong. Nobody can mark you weak unless you accept it by yourself.”

Silence and a quick glance at me was his reply.

“You are much stronger than I thought. You have the courage to express what you feel. It takes guts to do that. You become weak when you cannot accept your feelings, when you try to show what you are not. It's okay Roy. It really is. And if expressing oneself is considered a weakness then I would love to be marked as weak.” I couldn’t think of anything else but to hug him.

Rain falls because the clouds can no longer hold the weight. Tears fall because the heart no longer can hold the pain.

P.S. – Being sensitive, be it a man or a woman, doesn’t mark you weak. It just marks you more empathetic, more thoughtful, and so more affectionate. I personally cannot find a reason to call these people weak.
For a man, it is far more complicated. Crying is a taboo for him which has turned many like him into non-expressive beings. It just hurts to see an expressive person considered as weak.