When I was a kid I asked my mother; Mummy, will I ever be happy?
And she looked at me with those eyes that never looked at me and offered a straight up No.
And ever since then, I have been chasing happiness-scrambling falling over my feet to catch the train that would take me there. I bagged my seat on that racing train and bagged it, marked it mine, mine mine. And I looked around the carriage and I saw faces, many faces, no smiling faces just empty faces that screamed:
Where were you? Who are you? When are you coming home?
In a cacophony of utterances and syllables that don’t add up and creativity that won’t rest until its fed…
When you toss and turn a million microfibers of thought and emotion whizzing round and round and blurring your eyes even when they are closed.
And I’m still searching, still hoping that one day, someday, I will bump into happiness
I’ve seen horrors and gore but I’ve seen childish delight and utter joy I’ve seen mothers and babies and skipping ropes and old couples holding hands and I think –that must be happiness…
I used to think that if you smiled all the time, you would be called a happy person they say fake it till you make it so I mastered the art of pretence, the faking part and now my mask is stuck …setting yourself challenges and pushing yourself out of your comfort zone because then life really starts, all the secrets and money that you stole from your mother’s purse. You hide it under your bed and hide it under your heart and in between the red sock and the one that has teddy bears and stars on it.
And when your thoughts are chirping louder that the birds outside your window, your imagination takes off down the road that very pavement that you found yourself on, the doorstep.
The doorstep where you sat for forever and counted cracks and watched ants build their nests. And winter past and the green shoots began to grow and so did you
You grew big; you grew strong and, like a still wet sponge, absorbed the pollution of the world and delusion of its people,
People, like monsters in the fairy tale and Darth Vader attempts at humanizing things that are NOT HUMAN and trying to make sense of things that don’t make any sense at all. But nothing, nothing talks louder than silence
And so while I’m still roaming the streets in search of a wonder cure for world peace, I might just chance upon happiness and find out that it was there all the time; I was just looking in the wrong place.