When are we truly happy? Ever wondered that? What signifies as a contributor to happiness and what doesn’t? Is there an acceptable international standard to gauge happiness? A ‘happicheerometer’ or something!!
I really-really needed the answers to these questions last night.
And, I could not find them. It’s like being perched on top of a big, nasty mountain and watching all your emotions fight to the death in the valley below. Painful and definitive. I wrestled endlessly with a series of questions, mind-numbing possibilities and an apprehensive outlook on the gory aftermath. Nothing. Nada. Mercifully, I slept a long way into the night when the distant rumble of the ever busy KR Market had all but finally silenced.
I woke up refreshed, yet with a singular pain in my chest. I needed my tea- a strong, darkish liquid that scalded my innards as it rolled to its eventuality. I tried the clown tricks- talking loud, goofing about, and pretending that I gave a damn about the cheerful climate. That pain- like a needle lodged in the deepest recess of my heart was shouting its presence. I chose to ignore.
And then, it hit me. Maybe a million troubled souls might have arrived at a similar conclusion in their times of distress and this was my time to unearth the truth. A simple, delicate, deceivingly sincere answer...
And like a lone walker, I must test these waters myself, walk the hard path and savor the bitter irony. My duress to connect with the world is a shambled nightmare- and the solitude of my own making is a presence strongly felt. The cycles of hurt, happiness, pain, despair and expectations aren’t part of my luggage anymore- they do not possess the strength to hurt me any longer!
And so we go on.