recipe of happiness
the recipe of happiness is not measured in same tablespoons or cups for everyone.
for me it is,
the old songs my dada plays in his saregama when i wake up,
the smell of kooti hui elaichi and adrak in that kadak chai my dadi makes,
the same question my mom asks me every morning- "dabbe me kya leke jayegi?",
the glance my dad gives when he sees me tiptoeing to his wardrobe and stealing his perfume and rumaal,
the same path i take while walking towards station-the dhoop, the trees, the birds chirping, the smell of deep-fried samosas yes,
the familiarity of the faces i see when i take the same 9:41 local,
the fresh juice i take before coming to work,
the face of my colleague who greets me with a smile,
the appreciation of my manager for a job well done,
the friend who texts "chale chai peene?",
the feeling of ticking all my tasks,
the phone call you make to talk about your day,
the questions your brother asks as soon as you get home,
the things you write when journaling your day,
the feeling of hitting the soft pillow on your face.
these little, mundane things also counts for happiness no?
the recipe of happiness is not measured in same tablespoons or cups for everyone.
for me it is,
the old songs my dada plays in his saregama when i wake up,
the smell of kooti hui elaichi and adrak in that kadak chai my dadi makes,
the same question my mom asks me every morning- "dabbe me kya leke jayegi?",
the glance my dad gives when he sees me tiptoeing to his wardrobe and stealing his perfume and rumaal,
the same path i take while walking towards station-the dhoop, the trees, the birds chirping, the smell of deep-fried samosas yes,
the familiarity of the faces i see when i take the same 9:41 local,
the fresh juice i take before coming to work,
the face of my colleague who greets me with a smile,
the appreciation of my manager for a job well done,
the friend who texts "chale chai peene?",
the feeling of ticking all my tasks,
the phone call you make to talk about your day,
the questions your brother asks as soon as you get home,
the things you write when journaling your day,
the feeling of hitting the soft pillow on your face.
these little, mundane things also counts for happiness no?
your first encounter with loneliness
it was a bad day,
it was a bad day,
things were not going according to me,
everything was haywire,
my thoughts were hazy and mind numb,
was full of anger, disappointment, frustration and sadness,
picked up my phone but my fingers couldn't type a name,
had no one to call and rant,
my chest felt hollow, i could not fall back on anyone,
countless thoughts running through my mind,
almost choking on my own tears,
mindlessly scrolling through the phone,
i cried myself to sleep that night,
woke up the next day feeling tired,
went on about my normal day,
wrote in my diary to distract myself,
gulped down three glasses of water,
hogged on an entire bar of dark chocolate,
felt the temporary happiness,
it did not last long.
half of my heart has already made it before the other half could.
half of my heart has reached-
old narrow gallis of purani dilli,
quaint cafes of goa,
sunflower farm in sundaripandiapuram,
ghats of banaras,
colourful streets of pondicherry,
the snowy tops of kedarnath,
i am yet to reach there.
half of my heart has met-
the person who is kind to everyone,
the person who radiates joy like a ray of sunshine on a dark gloomy day,
the person who travels with you irrespective of anything,
the person who gives you the right advice,
the person on whom you can rely and call your best friend,
the person who loves you unconditionally,
i am yet to meet them.
half of my heart has already experienced-
the feeling of visiting @faqirchandbookstore,
the fear right before you jump from a cliff,
the lingering taste of the spicy momo chutney in the north east,
witnessing a sunrise at kalsubai,
diving deep into the water to swim with the fishes,
being madly in love with one person for the rest of your life,
i am yet to experience them.
everything was haywire,
my thoughts were hazy and mind numb,
was full of anger, disappointment, frustration and sadness,
picked up my phone but my fingers couldn't type a name,
had no one to call and rant,
my chest felt hollow, i could not fall back on anyone,
countless thoughts running through my mind,
almost choking on my own tears,
mindlessly scrolling through the phone,
i cried myself to sleep that night,
woke up the next day feeling tired,
went on about my normal day,
wrote in my diary to distract myself,
gulped down three glasses of water,
hogged on an entire bar of dark chocolate,
felt the temporary happiness,
it did not last long.
half of my heart has already made it before the other half could.
half of my heart has reached-
old narrow gallis of purani dilli,
quaint cafes of goa,
sunflower farm in sundaripandiapuram,
ghats of banaras,
colourful streets of pondicherry,
the snowy tops of kedarnath,
i am yet to reach there.
half of my heart has met-
the person who is kind to everyone,
the person who radiates joy like a ray of sunshine on a dark gloomy day,
the person who travels with you irrespective of anything,
the person who gives you the right advice,
the person on whom you can rely and call your best friend,
the person who loves you unconditionally,
i am yet to meet them.
half of my heart has already experienced-
the feeling of visiting @faqirchandbookstore,
the fear right before you jump from a cliff,
the lingering taste of the spicy momo chutney in the north east,
witnessing a sunrise at kalsubai,
diving deep into the water to swim with the fishes,
being madly in love with one person for the rest of your life,
i am yet to experience them.
