Every human in every country in each corner of this world (I know the Earth is a sphere but just bear with me) is living to achieve this one word, one feeling. We build houses, earn money, spend money, marry people, leave people, and do whatnot for this one single word. Yet, I find myself clueless when somebody asks me, “What is happiness?” (Yes, I am somebody).
Maybe it is having a fulfilling career where you are appreciated by others, grow as an individual, make lifelong friendships and earn buttload of money. Although, I have barely met a person in my 24 years long life who claims to have all of it.
Maybe it is something smaller, like having a great partner. Someone who loves you unconditionally, buys you many books and is a generous one in bed. While one must be terribly lucky to find someone like that, and universe has made me one such lucky human, it is not entirely it.
I guess it is something even smaller, like sitting in your balcony, watching and listening to the sky as it pours down on the blue one and you sip hot coffee, pretending you are in a movie. Maybe.
I believe that happiness is not a thing one looks for, like a childhood toy lost in some corner of the house, but an energy that one exercises from within and channelizes through people towards oneself. Everyone told me to find happiness, be happy, when they should have told me that happiness is all along inside me, hidden, waiting to be tapped into; to be brought forth, manifesting itself in a big smile on my face or a hearty laugh. Nobody told me this. And now I think I lost it. I lost it because I kept trying to find it in people, things, pages, faces and everywhere but inside myself.
Nobody told me how hard life becomes when this word, this feeling implodes inside you and you just cannot feel it anymore. Somebody should have.
