Men of Depression

In our small community, men who knot around their necks stiff blankets, flat iron wires or even straw tethers and hitch themselves like a jockey do to his horse on wooden beams high upon the ceiling or even steel clutches which support light bulbs to hang themselves, is relatively typical. Just last year, I remember at least two men in their mid-40s who took their lives the Judas’ way. The man who took his life at the backdrop of the rainy months of June was rumored to have an unscrewed up mind. Tell-tale gossipers moniker the man to be the cat-talker. Of course, you don’t find this to be a symptom of abnormality for humans because we all have this tendency to talk to our pets but of fledgling subjects and topics. What separates this man according to rumors is that he talks with them in the meow-purr dictum. Oh well, we could easily conclude that he really lost his mind. But previous to his having lost his mind is the sad story of man who have long died because of depression. They said his wife has a paramour. He couldn’t stand to see his wife being murdered by him so he probably took the pain and suffering by himself and internalized the vacuum that is with a passionate lover. The too-much-love-will-kill-you anthem by Queen to be precise.

The other man didn’t actually die because he hanged himself. This was the proximate cause but the immediate cause was that he actually drowned in the abyss of an infinite well somewhere in the middle of a rice field in the amianan. Because no one could really link his death to suicide (there was no autopsy-it was not a fad in the countryside much less a hype as in the CSI-type world) most people resigned into believing that the man accidentally tripped into the well while fetching water. I’m the last to believe when I heard the story. He hanged himself. How and why?

(To be continued. . .)