Mukkamala Sriram
If you’d ever had the chance to meet him, the first thing that would have stayed with you was likely his smile. He was the kind of guy who could crack a joke and fill a room, make a complete stranger feel at ease, and take the time to always ask, “How are you doing?” It was a genuine question because he really cared.
He’d remember your challenges, your triumphs, and when you needed it, a listening ear.
To the rest of the world, he seemed so full of joy and laughter. No one could have guessed the deep heartbreak concealed behind that bright and welcoming smile of his.
Life had not always been gentle with him. He had always worked hard, perhaps more than anyone would ever know. He had put all his effort into everything he attempted, confident that good faith, persistence, and patience always bore fruit.
Nonetheless, every attempt that he made to catch his dreams always seemed to slip through his fingertips.
Each time he came so close to success, fate somehow found a way to snip it out from beneath his grasping hands. Other people forged onward in life while he seemed to be held in place, watching doors close and hopes evaporate. He never once complained, he’d simply smile and march ahead, his battle wounds well hidden, so much so that nobody had ever realized the pain he held within.
Perhaps the hardest wars that he ever fought were silent ones. While the world was off fast asleep and all the laughs were long gone, he would be sitting all alone, shrouded by the darkness of his room, lost in an abyss he could barely make out. There, when no eye was peering in, the tears would spill forth.
Tears over shattered dreams, over wasted efforts, and over the same baffling question that taunted him: “How could life possibly treat him with such inequity when he had already offered all that he had?”
The same man who spent his waking hours bringing warmth into the lives of others, often weeped himself into slumber, holding a depth of pain he could not describe.
And yet, each and every morning, he had always emerged. He’d wipe away his tears, put back on the familiar smiling face, and venture back out into the world as if nothing was ever different. He continued to ask, “How are you doing?,” continued to be kind to everyone he met, and continued to laugh.
And maybe that was a bravery none had recognized – that even though he could have let resentment gnaw at him, he had instead chosen kindness.
Despite experiencing so much disappointment throughout his life, he’d chosen hope. And though they might never recognize how terribly hard he’d fought, many would truly understand, on some level, that some of the strongest people they’d ever encounter were those who cried their hearts out in solitude and still found the will to smile again the following day.