Tag Archives: happiness


Third Person: She

She saw them push him into the pipe: many times smaller than his size. They huffed and puffed, swore and cursed, twisted and turned him like a corkscrew, edging him inch by inch into the narrow, tunneled out prison. It seemed a tedious task, this relentless shoving, yet they persevered. With an unbridled determination, they continued their efforts, in squeezing him inside a space that was anything but spacious.

What drove them to commit such madness? to inflict such agony? She did not know.

Perhaps, they derived pleasure from tormenting him. Perhaps, they appeased some carnal impulse of brutality. Perhaps, they just wanted to gain the satisfaction of pushing someone to their limits. Perhaps they just wanted to suffocate all vigor, all vitality, all life out of his veins.


Second Person: They

Numbness stole through their bodies, sneaking from the poisonous crevices of their hearts into their bloodstream. They did not feel his pain. They did not have the compassion to feel his pain. They had been blindfolded into doing the wrong by the sense of their right. And, so they pushed and pushed and pushed – a mantra that knew no end.

What drove them to commit such madness? to inflict such agony? They thought they knew.

A thousand excuses, they thought of. All balderdash.


First Person:  He

He felt his bones crunch, his innards clench, as the constricting rubber of the pipe closed around him. He felt the grim material stretch across his limbs, sticking, adhering to his skin. He felt their clammy hands clawing into his shoulders with every heave, with every push. He felt his skin grow cold, his sweat vaporize. He felt his life slowly dwindle to a mere flame, stripped of all its fiery glory. He felt the wick of his life coming to a premature end.

What drove them to commit such madness? to inflict such agony?

He knew the answer.

They could not see him happy.

Tagged , , ,

Fits of Sullens

Happiness is not a destination, it is a mood.

Heard this on One Tree Hill and it has not left my mind since.

The better part of this year, I have wished (to be exact: desperately wished) to become happy. Hoping for something unexpected to happen that would make me feel that rush of adrenaline associated with unfettered happiness.

In the grips of this hope, I became moody, irritable, sullen, withdrawn, susceptible to instant mood swings. It’s ironic that wishing for happiness actually made me more unhappy than ever.  Ungrateful, some would scoff at me (they must have). I had a great family, great friends, everything I needed, a career I knew I would succeed in – yet I felt lost, astray. All I knew was that I wanted to be happy – and it became my goal.

Moreover, this desire for happiness brought with it the gnawing sense of guilt. How could I be unhappy when God has granted so much to me already? Why do I have to be so ungrateful?

But now I realize the absurdity of my wish. Happiness is just a mood, like hunger. It comes and goes. It is never meant to be a destination. And that, it is okay for me to be miserable once in a while – all that matters is whether I bounce back or not.

A wonderful, conspiratorial conversation with a good friend; a particularly juicy pomegranate  staining your mouth; the satisfying sound of your fingers hitting the keys whilst typing your epiphany; a cathartic walk with your favorite music blaring in your ears – these are my happiness and I intend to cherish them as much as I can.

Whether I stay true to this intent, is another story for another day.

Tagged , , ,

Rotten Core

He stood there still, on the crumbling edge of the cliff – a mere step standing between him and afterlife.

Strange, no? That he could be so firm to end something which had meant much to him just a few months back. But things had changed and realization had dawned since then.

The merry façade of the bark had been ripped apart to reveal the hollowness of the rotten core.

Diseased from inside, the Sage had decidedly told him; pointing towards the many monsters that furtively peeped from behind his shoulders – there was the potbellied Gluttony, drooling and craving for more edibles; his sickly drool sloshing upon the wasted Sloth who in his languor ignored the wet slobber; the lascivious Lust pouting and posturing in her tempting stilettos; the insatiable Greed hungrily eyeing the gold scepter the sage held in his left hand; the monstrous Wrath snarling and growling in his ever-present anger; the green, freckled Envy ablaze in the flames of his own insecurity and the vainglorious Pride buffing his chest and refusing to look down even when the Sage shook his scepter at him.

Your pets, the Sage had scoffed, your pets that you lovingly nurtured on bits and fragments of your own soul, until the day came when the fruit had vanished and only the shell remained.

When he had opened his mouth to protest, the Sage had interrupted, repeating that it was he who had tendered to these monsters and it would be who stamped them down. None could shoulder this task for him. He had come to demand his wisdom to help dissipate the unhappiness that plagued him and he had got that. But to be truly happy, he had to get rid of the pets that had piggybacked over his shoulders all these years.

And how he got rid of them was for him to decide.

Death, the answer had come to him almost instantly.

With his exit, the unhappiness would end.


Yet, as he stood on the teetering line between life and death, he hesitated.

Had he chosen death in cowardice?

Tagged , , , , , , , ,