Tragicomedies of my life

Sad memories embrace me more often than the happy ones

Maybe they are like the mothers of teenagers

Struggling for affection and attention

Maybe they are like the schoolteachers

Secretly wishing that they are remembered 

For all the life lessons taught...

Sad memories embrace me more often than the happy ones

And when they do, I reciprocate

Not like a nervous bride on her wedding night

But as a magnanimous father of twins

Arms extended to accommodate two in the place of one..

Every sad memory is the first child out of the womb

One is thankful that he has arrived but the wait is not over

The memory of narrating the sad incident to close friends

Follows slowly, making the heart heavy before his appearance

Causing a relieved smile after he joins his brother...

To my close friends, everything is fun and frolic
The tragedies of my life more so
My friends do not demean the incidents
They just refuse to give the events any more respect than they actually deserve
Most of my sad stories have been narrated
To result in unending laughter
I do not know if the approach is right or wrong
And I cannot care less
Right and wrong - What are they if not mere perspectives?
What helps one live is right
What helps one suffocate is wrong
The tragicomedies of my life,
In that sense, are righter than most shlokas and formulae...