Countless Hilarious Moments of Simple Joys
As the school bus sped past my bus stoppage, I tried to make my way to the back seat
, puffing and panting, almost out of breath. Blurting a word of thanks to my stars, I flung my bag onto the seat, plonked onto it and frantically flipped through my chemistry notes. It was not that we had a test or something. If you have to study science, you utilise every moment you can grab. "It's a torment they're accustomed to, an ordeal they've taken upon themselves," that's how some people describe us, even as we describe those people as the dwellers of the fairy land. If your success is not the sweat of your brow, too often literally, then it's not yours. The adrenaline rush had set my mind racing as I drifted into reveries.
"How do you define happiness?" a question sprung up in the Moral Science class. "It is a mental state of elation of the conscious mind when then the sub conscious and unconscious levels of the mind are relatively at rest. It is characterised by a pulse rate of 72-75 per minute, normal brainwaves and bioactivity in the green" was the answer given by one of my classmates. The calculated mechanical definition left me flabbergasted. Probably the tech-savvy scientist building up in me hadn't matured enough to dictate the passionate literature person that I was.
I looked around in search of the reflection of bewilderment on familiar faces, but in vain. Everyone seemed unruffled as though that definition, straight out of a medical encyclopedia had satiated them. A few hands shot up to make their own addition of probably a few more syndromes to it.
I wondered what discrepancy they discovered in our good old primary school definition that they needed it so much to be edited.
Where did my childhood go?
It went to some forgotten place,
That's hidden in an infant's face
That's all I know!
Moments of joy which used to elate one's senses; treasured jewels of memory chest that would be, were those when the clock ticked, but minutes refused to pass, those ephemeral moments seemed to linger on, eternally.
Ask an adolescent what would bring him satisfaction or true joy and the potential reply would be getting into an elite college of D.U. or scoring an A++ in a project may be. This A++ generation can very well calculate the bond length between neighbouring atoms, but their bond with the neighbour next door seems to have been severed. They remain unnerved by the complexities of calculus, but are daunted by the simple complications of relationships and refuse to take the first step leading to dwindling warmth and affection.
Joy lies in simple things, but the glitz and glamour seem to have devoured the simplicity of life. I remember the longing in my eyes, when my grandmother used to narrate her childhood adventures of tree-climbing or boisterous brawls and bantering among friends. I dote upon the tales of her being adamant on not letting the monkey snatch the chapatti from her and thus combating and braving a huge baboon as a six year old or how she had actually brought home lion cubs mistaking them for a cat's.
We dig into books to gain all the experience in the world often forgetting that it is a comb that nature gives men when they're bald; that is that you have to have your share of adventure and even mistakes to learn. You might get a doctorate in agriculture and soil types, but to feel the damp smell of the soil after the first shower eclipse your senses and elate your mind, you need to be receptive to all that nature has to offer.
Nature's endowments are abundant. They invite you to have a taste of their exuberance and majesty; to for once barter your sophistication for socialization and the momentary pleasures from materialistic assets for countless moments of boundless, eternal joy; to get out of the fortress you find yourself comfortable within, seldom realising that it's virtual.
Countless Hilarious Moments of Simple Joys
By: Amy Helton
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