What is a smile? It is a divine gift, a radiant testament to God’s presence. Yet, it can also veil a deeper truth, hinting at God’s absence when it masks pain. What are tears? They are both a burden and a blessing, a paradox that has perplexed humanity since time immemorial. Smiles fill us with joy, while tears seem to tear us apart. Yet, are they truly opposites, or are they intertwined, like threads in the tapestry of existence?

For years, these questions haunted me, knotting my mind in confusion. The relationship between tears and smiles eluded the greatest minds, leaving them spellbound. The enigma of tears and smiles remains as elusive as the Mona Lisa’s expression, open to endless interpretations, with no final answer in sight.

I, too, wrestled with this riddle, but each attempt to untangle it left me defeated. Exhausted, I ceased questioning. In surrender, I found unexpected solace. By letting go of the need for answers, a weight lifted from my soul. Instead of seeking solutions, I began to counter these mysteries with questions of my own, posed with renewed vigour: Does God lack wisdom, or am I the one who is unwise? Is God not wiser than those who claim wisdom? Does God truly love me—more than my parents, more than I can fathom? These questions flooded my heart, each one piercing deeper than the last.

I once thought God was irrational, but I realized the folly was mine. His existence is undeniable to those who look within and see the world openly. Though God has always been near, my vision was clouded, preventing me from perceiving His presence. Immersed in His love, my senses failed to grasp it. His wisdom and unconditional love overwhelmed me, guiding me to a state of blissful clarity.

Tears and smiles, birth and death, good and evil, sunrise and sunset—these are not opposites but interconnected. They enrich each other, part of life's dance, merging into the divine. To reject tears is to reject smiles; they are inseparable. A child's birth connects to another's loss. Joy rises from sorrow; a seed must die to become a tree, summer’s heat leads to monsoon rains. Hunger and food, sickness and health, hero and villain—they are life’s partners. Without the villain, the hero’s story is empty. When the curtain falls, they sit together, roles fulfilled.

Consider the ironsmith who forges both sword and shield from the same iron—one to wound, the other to protect. Though they oppose in battle, each serves its purpose. In peace, they rest side by side. So too with tears and smiles, friends and foes—all reconciled in the divine when life’s drama ends.

We shun tears, blind to their sacred purpose. Unloved and unwelcome, as if no one weeps for the tear itself. If a tear told its story, it would move us to weep. Every door is closed to it—yet it is God’s most cherished child. Smiles and tears are both beloved by the Divine, yet we embrace one and reject the other. Is this just? Can we honour God by loving only His smiles and scorning His tears?

God, in His boundless love, gives us both smiles and tears. If we trust His love, why fear tears? Like a child crying at a healing injection, we grieve what’s meant to heal. Tears aren’t punishment—they’re divine medicine for unseen wounds. The more we embrace them, the quicker the healing. As we thank doctors, so should we thank God for tears. His love is steadfast, beyond all human measure.

Our limited minds can’t grasp divine wisdom. God, who gives breath and sustenance freely, gives tears with purpose. To hate them is to reject Him. When we see tears as His beloved creation, resentment fades. The true path is to smile at tears and turn them into joy.

Three steps transcend tears: welcome them, give thanks, and love them. Then they vanish, leaving wisdom. Tears are sacred, like Lord Krishna’s smile rooted in Lord Rama’s sorrow. In their union lies the eternal dance of the divine.