Happiness is a Feeling, not an Option

normal_ink-typographic-art-print-because-i-m-happyBefore I get to this, let me start by saying ‘no offence’ to those who might think I’m being too harsh or, better yet, too real.  I’m bona fide writing this to spark some truth, not to defy any else theory.

“I choose to be happy”…  surely no one would choose the contrary.  In my life I have felt; happiness, normality and sadness.  Sadness has been dominant that’s for sure.  I may choose to be happy, but happiness is a feeling, it’s not an option.

When something is felt, it is not invited to be felt.  Feelings go deep; they permeate the most confined spaces, they sometimes determine your heart-beat.  Through experience, I’ve learned that you can’t force a feeling.  Feelings are like time, you can’t control them.  Life controls them.  The different plights that you find yourself in control them.

I’m scarred and wounded inside; I will never heal, well not anytime soon.  It feels like the world has spat on me and banned me from happiness: all the dirt, the sorrows and fears?  They are too much.  I did not choose this foul feeling, it chose me.   You can analyse this the way you want, you can wear my sneakers and walk on them: you still wouldn’t feel how I feel.  You still wouldn’t feel the anguish in me because of all the suicidal thoughts, you still wouldn’t look at people and make an almost accurate assessment of them, you still wouldn’t look into someone’s eyes and see their pain, which like flu ends up being contagious and spill on me.  You still wouldn’t smell the scent of despair in this most filthy air that we breathe.

How do I choose happiness if I’m not even close to being happy?  Do I seek counselling? ‘BUT WAIT UP!’ How will it help? By telling me to stay positive and that, things will work out fine?  Tell that to the mentally retarded, tell that to those who are less motivated and gave up on life, tell that to those who are emotionally beyond repair…. those who have disfigured hearts, which bleed out and beat to an off tune heartbeat.  Yes tell that to those people and then weigh out your success in thus doing.

Therapy won’t work on me.  Just like rehabs don’t completely work on heavy addicts.  To regain happiness, I would have to be happy for more than I was anguished, I would have to be overwhelmed by complete joy.   To conclude my point: being happy and choosing to be happy, it’s two different things, they vary.  If I choose to be happy, it would only be pretence, deep down?  I wouldn’t be happy.   The pretence would be to convince and console myself that things are on track and that this is just a minor hiccup… tell me now, who would be fooling who?

This was inspired by those whose eyes show me raw torment…  They chose to be happy, but they aren’t.  Don’t choose happiness, seek for happiness, don’t pretend to be happy, it makes it worse.   It’s like a hidden wound that unbearably itches and you constantly scratch it with your finger nails and lie to yourself that it will heal if you keep on scratching it.  NO! It will only bleed and it will not heal until you start acknowledging its existence and treating it like a wound. If being happy was an option, which sane person would be sad?

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Mom

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I found this portrait on the internet and I liked it.  It somehow made me realise the love of our mothers and their efforts in raising us.

 

Mom, I saw the bill last night.
And it was too much, yet you seemed alright.
You worked hard every day, just so I could have a better life.
I feel wretched for never telling you how grateful I really am,
it must probably be my lion pride.

You have always been there for me.
Even when my days were terrifyingly dark, you never left me,
you were the one who prayed for me.
You watched me grow and always wondered how I would end up.
I have brought you much more pain than joy.

But today; I want you to know how grateful I am to you.
I want you to know how sad I am for sometimes cleaning up your bank account.
You have been the best source of support, financially and emotionally.
There are not enough words to express my gratitude towards you.
But, mom, I am sincerely grateful.

I know I haven’t been the best child,
I was bad news as a kid and made you cry,
and not even the whippings made my bad manners die.
But for everything I have put you through,
for every bad word I uttered and made you weep…
I feel the ramifications haunting me.
And for that I am sorry, mom and I thank you for all that you’ve done for me.
I Love You!

Good-bye

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Good-bye, I will see you again, we will meet again,
in a different place this time; the sun will never set
and we will never have heartaches again.
Don’t miss me much, it will only bring you that vague anguish on lonely nights.

Goodbye.

Let’s hug one last time and kiss one last time.
Let’s just go out and have fun one last time.
Tonight, everything will be scrutinised;
I will say good-bye and you will look at me and sternly ask:
‘Is it still a good-bye even if it’s not good, because you’ll be actually gone for good?’

If only death did let us know before we leave our loved ones behind.
Maybe it was one of your parents.
Maybe it was your children.
Maybe you wished to have said: “Good-bye!”

The Figment Of My Imagination

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The light in my eyes represents the fire in my life.
I hallucinated of an old dull place,
which had no human soul but mine.

The visions were black and white as I was watchful of the broken doors,
which were reluctantly swung by the slow,
Yet vehement breeze that brought my heart at ease.

The quietness of that place was so comforting that:
I could only hear the singing of the lonely birds as they called it a day,
As well as the vague dull whistle blown by the trees,
which like a sot, moved side-to-side.

I yearned for this figment of my imagination to last a little longer:
Bring me back to consciousness,
and – in the vein of a small baby waking up to the sight of no one ­–
I would have wept!
Resembling a dead man in his sleep; I found peace in this place…

Nature’s Appalling Path

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I probably cheated death.
I swear I was supposed to die that afternoon.
I mean, it’s not like the strike was just a minor strike.
A person died beside me that afternoon.
He was supposed to die along with me.

I still have a vivid glimpse of that day.
Its mood was gloomy and it ended in dismay:
It left me with a small brownish scar on the left side of my cheek.
I can neither remember when I fell nor when I hit the bottled ground,
however: I can vividly remember how it reeked,
and how hard I was crying without saying any word.
I was only about five-years old, and believe it or not, I felt no pain,
I cried yes, but I felt no pain.

Perhaps the strike made me numb?
Or maybe it was the confusion,
one minute we are headed home and the next;
we are lying down: I was wounded and he was unconscious.
How could life end so abrupt, does it have no conscience?
How could nature be this atrocious?

I still don’t know what struck our bodies down,
I know nonetheless, that it was raining that day,
The sun hid behind the clouds, not to witness what would ensue,
Thunder roared in extreme wrath,
Lightning flashed as if taking pictures of its target.
That afternoon, we happened to meet with the nature’s appalling path.

 

I Have Travelled!

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I have travelled in many roads, roads full of sorrow, roads full of joy.
I have seen the worst; babies abandoned by their own parents,
but then again, I have seen the best; parents devotedly raising their infants.

I have been there:
The place of gold and success,
the place of dust and failure!
I have seen it all: blood, tears as well as ecstasy

I have been through hell on my way to heaven.
I have made noise that teaches.
I have evaded the nastiest preaches

Thus through all the tears I’ve shed
and through all the laughter’s I’ve had,
I know that, One day I will be free from all the torments and the joys,
One day I will have to meet with either the Devil or the God.

I Never Knew

peer-pressureI lived life as if it was a game.
I did not want to make out my foul deeds,
Fun that appeared to be endless; carried me away.
‘PEER PRESSURE’ defeated me in shame.

I doubted my worthiness.
Without my peers, I was flooded with fears.
I never ceased to have them impressed.
I never knew that one day, I‘d be alone: distressed and wiping my tears.

I look upon the sky in a quest for my lost soul.
Deep down my heart and mind,
I know that I will never find it.

I never knew that what I did in the past,
would haunt my present and future!!
I never knew that I was agonizingly killing myself, as it felt ‘WORTH-WHILE’.
I never knew that, one day my friends would disappear,
Right when I needed a cheer.
I never knew!