Skip to main content

Psychology of Pain

Painful have been the shrieks of pains since painful ages.
Poignant have been the stains of pains since painful are its wages.
Alas! Though pain might be constant
Yet from the laws of nature even pain isn't spared and can't stay static.
Thus, though Omnipresent painless is the pain now.
Ache of the pitiful heart doesn't ache anymore. 
Wounds would remain wounded.
But , fear of misery and suffering have perhaps forever gone.
Bleeding of the soul is somewhat constant. 
But, somehow numbness of the soul has made its effects almost vanished.
Vanished are the fears.
Vanished are the feelings.
Vanished are all the vital stems.
Vanished are all the pain relievers be it medicines or soothing balms.
Vanished are all strengths.
Perhaps no one is free there to hear.
So, may be nothing is left to be said and shared.
Beware, once one gives voice to the plethora of  personal pains.
At times though not always one is for sure going to be though for a short while 
gory talk of the town.
All flock to show concern but sadly genuine hearts that beat for one are just rare and a few.
Here, acts the psychology of pain that definitely is there to free of cost train.
Train one to accept,
train one to reject,
what's meant to be accepted and what should at any cost be rejected.
The pain preaches everyone a painful lesson
whether one learns to bear it,
or another one learns to fear it.
That pain is there to stay and that there is in any case no escape way.
So, let the pain reign and make every possible effort.
Though some of one's efforts might end up in vain,
Efforts to try and conceal one's pain from the world's vile eyes.
Ultimately a day would dawn,
When  one would realize and feel that though nature of pain is consistent and constant,
yet somehow, somewhere it has gone.
The fact of painful life,
Here with pain one must point,
Pain was
Pain is
And pain will be there having thousands of springs and facets.
But, all one needs is an acceptance,
And a few lovely faces whose eyes shine when one  though in pain smiles.
And whose hearts beat only to make sure that the one in pain doesn't retreat to a lonely solitary shell.
A constant painful battle with pain everyone who is born has to raze.
Otherwise it will become herculean to endure the world's painful cage .
The treatment of pain is in pain itself. 
Before old would be agone,
new would be knocking at the painful gate of one's soul.
All one needs to do,
And all one can do is to make a passage for pain's painful gait.
So, that one survives fall time and again and again strives back to greet more pain.
Pain that would cease to be only when cycle of one's life has no more life.
Therefore,  till then the best way out is to make way for the pain if possible in a painless way.






Comments

  1. भावनात्मक अभिव्यक्ति
    अनूठी शब्दाभिव्यंजना।।
    आपका यश और कीर्ति निरन्तर बढ़ती रहे।।

    ReplyDelete
  2. A true picture of life's bitter truth

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Do leave your comments

Popular posts from this blog

Working Mom

  The title of this write-up may make no sense and might seem whimsical to some. Yet, I couldn't think of any other, though I did try to run the horses of my mind for hours to replace it with a better one. Anyhow, its content, I hope, is worth reading. This may sound contrary to me,a language teacher who always guided  pupils to choose eye-catching and gripping titles for their work. Yesterday, a phone call from my twenty-one-year-old daughter led to a discussion  about the parents’ rights over children. I, being a mother, feel that a mother—being the carrier of her baby in the womb for nine long months and then bringing the baby into this world with unimaginable pain has rights to advocate. I told her about how difficult it is for a mother to stay away from her children, especially toddlers. I shared with her the hardest choice I had to make when she was just one and a half years old and my elder child was  three. It was one of the toughest years of my marriage....

When Skill Meets Determination:A Salon, A Story and a Salute

Since time immemorial, both men and women have wished, ventured, and craved to look good, better, and sometimes the best. In every nook and corner of the world, whether in a bustling city, a quiet suburb, or a small village, salons and beauty parlours stand as testimony to this universal desire. With each generation, the dependence on such services has grown, shortcuts have become acceptable, and professional grooming has turned into a necessity rather than a luxury. This observation isn’t a conclusion drawn from research; it is born from personal experience with my twenty-one-year-old daughter. Having recently begun to manage her life independently, she is particular about her appearance and outlook. For the past three years, she has been living abroad and returns home every December for a month. During this time, she sweetly wishes to be pampered in every possible way. One such indulgence is getting her hair washed and blow-dried at a salon so that her curtain bangs remai...

Silence

Silence is serene. Silence is solace. In several ways, silence saves the savage soul. Silence is static, strong, like sky-kissing mountains circling a sleepy hill town. Silence is somber when it stems from sadness. Silence strives to sleep over sickening strategies. Silence confers the childlike sleep upon the soulful, while it steals the peace of the soulless. Silence smiles and silences all conjectures. For a few, silence is a sweet remedy; for others, silence is a malady. For some, silence is a question impossible to crack. For others, silence is the answer to every crux. For some, silence is a shield. For others, the sharpest knife, the searing scythe. Most times, aparently silence saves bonds. At times, it breaks them into forms unrecognizable. Silence wears the face of a silent sage, yet stands indisputed as  a symbol of untamed rage. Life screams. Death silences. silence is a voice in itself, raising walls too high for unwanted noise to climb. Silence is a misunderstood path...