Sitting on a chair, a pen in my hand, I kept staring at the blank page of my diary, thinking to write on Happiness. I always feel happy to write, and writing on happiness couldn’t have been a happier feeling.
So, I took the plunge and swam in the ocean of thoughts, thinking about ‘happiness’; definitions and descriptions brewing up in my mind. I had my pen ready, its tip hovering just above the paper; when I’ll feel right, then pen would caress the page lovingly; the ink would flow and form beautiful shapes - words resembling my thoughts.
But even in my happiness to write, I couldn’t think for sure what to write on happiness. Of course, potpourri of phrases and proverbs perched at the tip of my tongue and pen; I had the whole treasure of words to myself (thanks to my darling dictionaries!), I could craft sentences adorned with ornamental imagery, magnificent metaphor, awe-inspiring allegories and what not! Still ‘Happiness’ seemed to elude me.
The more I thought, the more ‘happy-less’ I got.
I stood up, at last, leaving both my pen and my attempts to pen, and decided to spend the day come what may, forgetting all about happiness.
The morning was fine, the clouds feathery and I took a leisured walk nearby. I bought milk, shared an old joke with the hawker, laughed aloud with a pal, greeted the passersby and saw the children hopping about happily. Yet, I didn’t ponder about happiness.
At work, I found myself skimming through a pile of papers on my table, talking a lot about figures and financials, calling clients, shouting summons, arguing about, sealing deals, wishing my buddies on their birthdays and hearing their happy ‘thank you-s’. Still, I didn’t wonder about happiness.
Coming home at night, I found my mom cooking a delectable ‘vegetable Kofta’ to our delight. Oh, I love my mummy and like to fill my tummy with such yummy stuff! Having devoured, I felt full, fed and happy. And, yet again, I didn’t mull over happiness.
I plonked down on my bed with a sleepy head, flipping through my favourite chapters of ‘Harry Potter’ and his magical moments that still felt gripping, grand and great. And, so far, all the day and night, I didn’t worry about happiness.
The first rays of dawn woke me up with a happy yawn. And, thus, I thought about happiness.
May be, I thought, happiness was all about thinking ‘not too much’ about happiness! Perhaps, as the saying goes so well, happiness is like a butterfly that alights on you if you lay quiet but flutters away when chased. Well, so I took my pen, opened my dairy, and thinking not too much, wrote all what you are reading now. And believe me, I couldn’t have been happier enough.