I was told that happiness is omnipresent if one is willing to look at it.
That it's a journey of ways where you are the one who has to carve out snippets of joy like an archaeologist looking for million worth of historical fossils.
Now if I take this stance, I would rather say happiness is variable, like fluids, which you choose as per your liking. Some look up to the river, and the creeks slowly flowing in the crevices unseen, while some look at the vast ocean that resembles the sky, one they can touch, and some look for the sea with its sorrow-filled salinity and chilled tides of tranquillity that seem to push their grief away.
I know my happiness would be fluid, something as chattering as rain, sometimes like syrup in my refreshing tea and sometimes it would be like waves of the sea that I would be drawn to though it will push me away.
For a fact, I know this because the reason I couldn't sense happiness despite its presence around me was fluid itself, and like a coin has two sides, the fluid I floated in was murky, dense and dark, to an extent it blinded me of all colours I yearned to see. I could never touch it, but feel it weighing on me, twisting in me and playing games with my emotions, taking away my ability to feel a particular emotion at a time, rather I felt many of them, brewing up a storm. Fluid enough. Close enough yet unseen.
It was like the ominous clouds that layered before thunderstorms, and above it was light, gentle and warm, and I thought it was the price I had to pay to look at it.
Every storm has to be passed to sense the brightest of day.
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THE PREMISE OF LOVE
PoetryMy Poetry, the art form of the soul, is an exquisite tapestry of language that weaves together emotions, thoughts, and experiences with skillful craftsmanship. It is a captivating expression of the human spirit, transcending time and culture, to tou...
