I laugh.

I look at her cry and I laugh.
I listen to the other suffering; and I laugh louder.

It becomes even more difficult to control my laughter, as one more breaks down ...

I am asked constantly,
"Why are you laughing?"

Everyone seems angry; I laugh as pain and suffering unfolds!
I ask myself, "what makes me laugh?"

Comes my turn. I feel like laughing again -
at my pain, my suffering, my loneliness ... at my life.
The sound of pain tells me,
pain is to be laughed at.

Something grips me, my body trembles, my voice chokes,
my lips dry and my eyes give up
Someone help! How do I laugh now?

This time I cry, I cry my heart out,
I cry for all those who cry
I cry for myself
I cry as loud as I laughed, as uncontrollably ...  as I laughed.

Is to cry any different,
from what it is to laugh?

I cry in pain, as pain cries in me,
I laugh at pain, as pain laughs at me.

[This reflection builds on a meeting with the 'didi-s' I had in village Dhamolima, in Sikarpai panchayat, in Kalyansinghpur Block, and in Rayagada district of South Odisha. In this meeting, a particular didi (whose name I withhold) keeps laughing as the other didi-s narrate their their stories of sorrow, pain, loneliness, and singleness. I keep wondering: why is she laughing? What is there to laugh? But when her turn comes, she breaks down ...]