Welham Girls' School

On sunny winter afternoons, when the air is crisp with the playful nips of a gentle breeze, and sunlight pours down in soft caresses to my face, my thoughts often wander to a secluded place in my mind, a quiet corner of introspection and emotion, where it lets me explore the general highs and lows of life in comforting privacy.

 

And so, as I sit outside today, alone and wrapped in the mellow solace of a lazy morning, my thoughts stumble upon an old, and rather fickle, friend – happiness.

 

Happiness – the sweet joy of an ice cream shared shyly with a friend, the roaring euphoria of winning a race, the bubbly excitement of opening presents on Christmas morning. It comes in so many forms, manifests and weaves itself into unexpected parts of our life, and yet, so fleeting. The ice cream quickly melts, applause eventually dies, and when Christmas is over, we must all go home. The electric tingle of ecstasy gradually ebbs from the body, and one returns to the dull monotone of everyday life.

 

Indeed, the volatile nature of happiness proves to be quite distressing. The constant search for little pockets of felicity as one pushes through the dreary thrum of a blue day is, well, tiresome, to say the least. Not to mention the heavy gloom of knowing that life is inherently sad, with only tiny pearls of pleasure tucked preciously between the folds of today and tomorrow.

 

So, on golden afternoons such as these, one marvels to oneself – what is the point of it all? If the very purpose of life, the very goal, is to reach contentment, why must we perpetually pine for it? Why must we constantly have to look for ways out of this suffering, chase escapism in books, movies, poems? Why must we bear the brunt of immortal misery, simply to gain a few, terribly brief slices of happiness?

 

As I trudge through these thoughts – my mind now riddled with cloudy sleepiness – realization sparks within. I must satisfy myself with the knowledge that the sole thing making happiness special is the pain one must endure to achieve it, that the highs of life are high simply because the lows can be so low. You can only experience happiness once you’ve experienced torment. And, really, life is sad plainly because things can be happy. It’s all a matter of comparison, relativity. Didn’t Einstein have a theory on that, my mind supplies uselessly through its drowsy haze. That’s just the way the universe works.

 

And as the sun’s warm gaze lulls me into sweet slumber, gently laying me down into my own little bubble of happiness for the day, a last thought crosses my mind, a thought I know I will forget when I wake up and the stars replace the sun and I return to mind-numbing schoolwork.

Oh, happiness – the cause and consequence of human suffering.

 

Ananya Makker
F/155

 

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