It’s one of those things that every human goes through in their own way; each moment - deep, surrounded by the sorrow of memories that flood you. There are those who speak their heart out, face the people concerned, and talk about it, ask about it. There are those who silently pray from afar, transfixed in the news of their loss, unable to physically do anything to help. There are those, who try facing the people, do little to help in matters on hand because someone else already seems to be handling it, and so they stay on the sidelines, struggling to find the right words, wishing not to add to the burden by asking too much and making the people repeat the stories of their pain, of how it happened, what’s happening now, etc. praying from a distance, ever ready to do anything asked if need be. But what remains a constant in each situation of people, is the pain. Whether someone was close, or family, or a friend, or an acquaintance… everyone’s pain IS pain. Perhaps the different ways of expressing it (or the lack of ability to express it at all) may not be agreed upon by everyone culturally, religiously… but the expression and reaction is ultimately for God to know… for our duas and supplications are sent out to him. Those who are able to, will get their feelings across to the families in some way shape or form… but it won’t be until many more weeks from the time of when it all happened, that they might remember and actually respond to your having been there at the time… Regardless of the myriads
Suffer in silence… withdrawn into a quiet stupor.
Suffer in silence… morbid thoughts of a moment over.
Suffer in silence… vulgar words in memory spoken.
Suffer in silence… people many yet people absent.
Suffer in silence… incensed thoughts emotions awaken.
Suffer in silence… until tomorrows glimpse of a new horizon