How Deep One Indulges in Happiness Project

Like, making happy-all-the-time face an achievement for a display! How does that work out for everyone — just curious. (A reflective prose piece with some splash of poetry).

Collage photo created by Prasant Trivedi

You could be too happy or too sad. Or it is me who needs to feel that way, where too happy is too good and too sad is too bad. But from the perspective of loud, famous happiness project, even some level of sadness is unacceptable.

Let me confess this here: I, as a person who never stops evolving over time and is growing more empathetic to nature and animals everyday, must say that keeping happy every moment or keeping sad all the time is not my streak.

Happiness, to be forthright, is not my devotional project to indulge in. In fact, it is not going to be my all-time flashy ambition at all, in the worst and the best of my time. I don’t seek to make it a cheeky practice in all the circumstances, born and unborn, neglecting downs of others, and those of mine.

No, I would love to welcome it if happy energies instinctively knock my door, but I cannot always go to invite it. It would otherwise be a pure burden or pestering expectation, wouldn’t it?

Like sad beats, happy wave demands its own price. I wouldn’t be choosing it as my desperate, dedicated mission, or desire, especially after knowing or having experienced almost all kinds of tastes of life, and how they each taught me a thing or two.

Nor is Sadness going to be my sole beloved wealth. I have never always entertained the approach of only wanting or expecting the moments of felicity except in the times when I as a person was too naïve or too juvenile to consider the essence of life. Nor have I emphasized walking toward sadness path in all its exclusivity.

Be it a feeling of bliss or melancholy, none of it is ever going to stay in its perfect version as understood by the materialistic world. None of it is here to last and pursue you until the time you are all ashes.

“I mean I feel there is no perfect anything, not even consistency of one’s spirit, energy, or obsessive involvement in a space. There is no perfect understanding of things, only…