I caught myself thinking, so what makes me happy? I quickly realized how it is such a useless and irrelevant question. When I was younger, the answer was very clear to me. Slow made me happy, love made me happy, this whole sense of purpose that I had in my life made me happy. Now I go about without making a big deal of it. Not that I am not happy, I am. It's just that I am not working "towards" something. You know that feeling, how you just do what you do because this is what you always wanted to do? So, my life right now is actually founded on happiness. And so it is sort of normal these days!
That is, such a relief. Really. Don't ever think I take it for granted. Not once.
And there was also tiny little moments that made me happy. Eating at pizza hut and reading, reading at coffee day alone, walking up to Kanti sweets and eating their god awesome chaat, just walking, eating chips from hot chips and cake shake at Flavors, watching movie over take out masala dosa from CTR - cannot believe how much happiness I associate with just eating several things =) - even now I do feel incredibly pleased when I do any of it. But I have also grown cynical.
Yesterday when I got up, it was raining! Just recently I was thinking about the rains and when I heard the rain drops outside my window, I just smiled to myself. There was nobody watching, nobody I had to show my happiness to, just myself and I smiled. It had been so long since that happened - I do laugh alone a lot, when I watch funny stuff, read funny stories, but that's different. And then, I fixed myself cereal and coffee and sat outside on the patio - to watch rain, to listen to rain. And when I was still in this excited mood, I also grew cynical. "What the fuck is wrong with me, why am I being so excited. I'm not reallly excited about the rain, am I, all of this is just a show off" . Like I said there was nobody to show off to, but the cynical part of my brain seemed to alert how I was putting on a show for myself. To feel like there's some part of me whch delights in all this. Like really delight in it. Without explaining it, describing it, telling others that there is a delight in this. I am rambling now. But as I spent many a hour reading fat people stories, cringepics, tumblr in action and several similar "superior" subreddits, a certain sadness grew on me. I cannot explain it coherently even if I tried.
So yeah, right now if I lost five pounds I'd be happy, if my legs don't fucking hurt like mofo bitches whenever I up my mileage I'd be happy, if I am able to code the shit of system verilog I'd be happy, if I were to keep up with my courses and do everything in the course completely, I'd be happy. And really, this is much better than pining for arbitrary things from life. And other people.