Tuesday, 27 October 2009

The Purpose of Life is to be Happy.

One day, in bright sparkling sunlight, when the rest of the busy cosmopolis passed her by, a girl walked alone in Bombay. She had an important interview the next day. She must be smart and go to Oxford. Perhaps she wasn't ready. She had a little impersonal hotel room where no sunlight ever came. Then she switched the AC off and opened the door. Crystals of sunlight flooded the room- dancing, crying, singing. Epiphany. Why did she once think that the room was so dark? No room can ever be so dark. And the slice of sunlight had first filtered in through that hidden window. No room can ever be so dark even with the door closed. When she opened the door, the room was the sun's playground. It was beautiful. It was divine.

She didn't get what she had gone for. Instead she saw a poster. A little blue poster in the middle of a cruel cosmopolis. The Arabian Sea- strong, serene, silent. The city-impersonal, European, Jai Maharashtra.

The poster- The purpose of life is to be happy.

Don't ask me why. I cried then. I cry now.


Anurima. said...

At least, don't deliberately make yourself unhappy.

precisely said...

I know what you mean.

Priyanka said...

It's the pursuit that kills you everytime without you knowing it, I think.

Elendil said...

It's because you write like things like these, albeit rarely, amidst many convoluted and largely meaningless exercises in punning and semantics, that I asked you to marry me the first time I read your poetry :P

Wonderful. A gem. Simple, shining. Epiphany filled.