Admist my miseries of life I looked for simple pleasures to keep me alive. One of those pleasures were my three companions whom I would unremittingly seek irrespective of any place I migrated. Mr.Intellectual, Mr.Creative and Mr.Emotional. The search for my companions would take me to erratic places. Forgotten book stores, where Mr.Intellectual would busy himself going through epics, Mr.Creative would be found painting the antique architectural glory and Mr.Emotional would indulge with a glass of wine or two crying over Romeo’s death. Three of them together would make a great combination for serious argument. On one such circumstance, I had risen the simple topic of why do people cry:
Mr.Intellectual said: if the situation is going to teach me something new, I would rather cry to learn. If the situation is going to teach me something more by controlling my tears, I would rather learn not to cry.
Mr.Creative said: ‘Heavy hearts, like heavy clouds in the sky, are best relieved by the letting of a little water’. So I prefer to cry.
Mr.Emotional said: There can be no human heart which cannot understand the joy of pain and brandish it with river of perpetual tears.
A normal man would have said, I cry because I feel like.
Spread around the world, with different names, belonging to different creeds and speaking different languages and yet a bond that brings the four of us together under a single roof at regular intervals. More than a coincidence…