The pursuit of happiness is ongoing. Never before, has it evaded us in so many ways as now. Market forces have created a new industry, complete with all paraphernalia, to address this need. Yet with little success.
At the turn of the century, I had written a poem (in Hindi) for my school-going daughter which reads as follows:
{In translation}
You have snatched all my rights,
whatever is simple, beautiful too,
attracts me no more –
in the blue sky, birds in flight, homeward
do not surprise me
children’s innocent laughter, does not take me down
memory lane, evoking days gone by
it is the neighbours, who define my being
their own, some other.
Maybe, here lies the answer: true happiness is what is important to me and what energizes me, not others’ perception of it.
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