Skip to main content

The Mystery


A wise person once told me that it’s important to spread confusion, not to eliminate it. That’s why I decided to write this post, instead of doing some real investigation about what’s confusing me.

Happiness is confusing. And a little scary. Especially when you can’t pinpoint the exact source, and the shelf life is longer than a few beer infested hours, you begin to wonder what’s brought on this unfamiliar feeling – where even the bitch of a ride to work doesn’t get you down. And you spend the entire day staring at a beat up old computer screen doing something not very phenomenal, go home to an empty house and eat a vegetarian dinner alone in front of a non flat screen TV watching reruns of Grey’s Anatomy. And still feel optimistic while climbing into bed.

And though my state doesn’t quantify as ‘euphoric’, I’m still pretty worried about this needless, causeless positivity. It’s most unlike me. I’m someone who loves to fret – about the future, and getting fat, and losing my teeth, and just about anything. I also genuinely love to complain. I enjoy cribbing, and it can be about my love life or the economy. It doesn’t really matter. That’s not to say I’m a pessimist or a wet blanket. I love to have fun. Just not all the time. But peace of mind, that’s something I’m not used to, especially if it doesn’t come on the back of an accomplishment.

So what could it be?

It’s not my friends. I mean, of course I love them, and hopefully vice versa, but nothing has really changed to cause a spike in the meter reading. It’s true that one is back home after a year, but another has just left. The others are constants in the equation.

Its most definitely not love. My love life (if it even qualifies to be called that) is as DOA as ever, with a Prince, Charming or otherwise, conspicuous only by his absence.

It’s not likely to be happy hormones. Those are released when you exercise and I haven’t moved my every expanding butt to burn some calories for over a month. I’ve also just recovered from a week of non-life threatening illness, which only left me with more work to catch up on and no sense of victory for having survived.

Could it be the job? But that’s been constant for over a year now. If anything, I should be overwhelmed at this point, and anxious about the daunting task ahead. But it still doesn’t seem to be enough to pour water over the vague mood of positivity that I am wallowing in. Maybe I’m looking forward to the challenge?

That leaves family. My big bro is finally getting married soon! At the risk of sounding more like a mother than a sister, I will own up to the fact that I’ve been waiting a long time for this. But he’s been engaged a few months now, and the wedding is still far away, so it really can’t be the root cause.

So why? Why am I happy?

“Sanity and happiness is an impossible combination” – Mark Twain

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Behind the Sightscreen (Part 2)

It was my greatest fear that the stadium lights would go out – plunging the ground into darkness and basically broadcasting this (power) failure to the entire world. I can now safely say that this did not happen. Unfortunately, everything else did. Among the many bombs that had been casually tossed around the South-East basement offices, the first that exploded was the one where a last minute ‘request’ was made to provide baggage handlers to carry the players’ luggage. Seeing the stretch on manpower, my tomboyish, feminist colleague immediately offered to lend a hand. I, failing to come up with a quick excuse, found myself accompanying her in stumbling around under the weight of the heavy kit bags – the sizes of which were comparable only to the size of the heads of their owners. Now I am not one to shy away from attention, but the sudden deluge of comments and flashes from cameras disconcerted even me. I looked out from under the bag to see shocked faces all around me. Some of th...
6 comments
Read more

Here

  A new friend recently said, “when people who have lived abroad say ‘here’, they mean India, but when I say it, I mean Ahmedabad vs Mumbai. In that moment it seemed like the usual random nonsense someone high on Diwali vacation vibes + weed might say. But as I think more closely, there is a grain of wisdom hiding behind the benignity. Our outlook is defined by the exposure we have gotten, either gathered through travel, movies, discussions, upbringing or simply by living among people whose world view is different from our own. When I decided to move back, I was prepared for the physical differences of living in India vs Europe, I knew it would be hot, crowded and loud, people would be unpunctual, and that would get on my nerves. I think I was partially unprepared for how difficult it would be fit in emotionally . Before I left, I did often feel like a misfit or a rebel, sometimes being Bengali in a pretty Marathi city, but largely due to my experiences at a rigid and unwelcomin...
1 comment
Read more

Bitten by the Biye Bug

A Biye really brings out the Bangali in me. Someone who generally doesn’t spare a second look for sweets, and is ostracized from the community due to my lack of ability to not sound like a dying hyena when I sing, it’s difficult to find a common topic of interest when I bump into fellow Bongs. But there’s nothing like a Biye to bridge all those barriers. Because a Bangali Biye is all about 2 of my favourite things – food and presents! The eating traditionally begins with “Aiyibudobhath”. Or as it’s called in Marathi, “Kelwan”, with extra emphasis on the ‘l’ and ‘n’. This is where your close friends and family invite the bride/groom (along with their families =D) over for a meal. The parents of the bride/groom, also host one, and their favourite food is cooked! Luckily, the brother’s fave food is my fave – namely Mangsher jhol – bhath. Since it is impossible for me to describe how incredibly delicious it is, this is how it looks. For those of you who would like to make it – please fo...
Post a Comment
Read more