To Quill the Mocking World
(4 min read)
Sometimes I feel like I’m riding the crest of an enormous wave.
Rising higher and higher, knowing all the time that I have to come down sometime. Reaching out for a happiness that always seems to be out of my grasp. And other times, I find myself having dark thoughts. About loneliness and anxiety and expectation. About falling into a rabbit hole and discovering portions of me I’ve been trying to change, trying to suppress.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Maybe all of us have are given a fixed amount of happiness when we’re born. That we’re allowed to spend over our lifetime. And we may choose to spend it all at once, over a few short years, being happier than we’ve ever known, an addictive, erratic, contagious, almost transcendent happiness, using those memories to warm ourselves during the cold nights that follow. Or maybe we choose happiness of another kind, the kind that gently seeps into your bones and warms the tips of your toes all year long, a steady, soothing stream of happiness, intermingled with everything life has to offer.
Or maybe happiness is more about the people and things around us and how they make us feel. Maybe its about who we surround ourselves with and spend our time with. Maybe its what we do in our waking hours and our goals and our aspirations. Maybe its about the lessons and experiences that life teaches us and how we deal with adversity.
Or maybe we make our own happiness, out of the choices and decisions we make. Maybe being happy is something innately from within. Maybe we are the true architects of our happiness, learning to shape and define our destinies and feelings, learning more and more about ourselves until we can solve the equation of our personal happiness, like putting together an intricate tapestry of intermingled and complex emotions that lets us be happy whenever we want, on a whim.
Whatever it is you believe is the source of your happiness, you can’t deny that happiness and sadness are two intertwined feelings. One cannot truly understand the warmth and excitement of happiness without having seen the depth and despair of sadness. Like the light and the dark, you cannot have one without the other. Which is why I think that being sad, from time to time, is a perfectly normal thing.
Whenever I try and let people know that I feel sad, they always ask me to think positive thoughts, wear bright colors and keep my mind occupied. They tell me that my dark thoughts will weigh me down and prevent me from seeing and feeling happiness all around me. But maybe we’re not meant to be happy all the time. Maybe we’re meant to have portions of our life spent wallowing in sadness.
No one can remain positive all the time; the pressures and effort required is too much for any one person to bear. And if one feels like wearing black and grey to reflect their inner feelings and turmoil, they shouldn’t be forced to disguise their sadness with color. By suppressing your soul, by not allowing it to feel, to genuinely feel the complex spectrum of emotions, you’re chipping away at it, piece by piece. If it wants to cry tears of silver, let it. Give in to those emotions and let yourself cry.
Listen to sad music and try and make sense of the lyrics. Read sad stories of failed romances and shattered dreams. Allow yourself to understand that there are others around you who are tasting the same despair that is so unpalatable to your tongue. Allow grief to wash over you, with your arms open wide. And then, when you think you’ve had enough time to ride out the waves of unhappiness, rise above it all.
Listen to that small voice inside of you that had been muffled and silenced by the layers of sorrow and despair. Extract it slowly, peeling away the vanquished feelings of fear, regret and despair and hear it’s voice ring out loud.
“I will be alright,”
“Things will get better,”
And maybe, most importantly,
“I will be happy again,”
For only when you have gone through all the stages of grief, through all of this, can you truly be happy again. Neither fake smiles that hide veiled tears, nor wearing startlingly bright clothes can ever bring you happiness.
After all, forced happiness is nothing but sadness.
In his own words, “I’ve always imagined that the best way to get to know someone was to look at their art, to read their work or to listen intently to their music. Indeed, doing so is sort of peering at the artist’s very soul. There is very little I can tell you about myself that my work will not tell you anyway However, I do enjoy cooking, coding and writing.”
(Click here to read our first book “Mirrored Spaces” : A poetry and art anthology in English and Hindi with contributions from 22 artists)