As the day got on today, I felt this sublime happiness cover me like a warm memory engulfs us when we catch an old song riffing through the glass door of a store or like a soft, velvety evening you spend with someone you meet for the first time. It was freeing and open, like our hearts are when we see something we have never seen before. Despite my sneezing’s persistent interruption, I could feel a joy I hadn’t felt in a bit. It could be that I was growing older and becoming whoever I was meant to be, or as it often is, it could simply be a peek into what is right and what is true. But as I sat there, working, I realised that I only felt joy when I was useful. I could experience a whole plethora of things, and that, too, has its place, but my happiness is my usefulness. There is no alternative for me, and I can keep running from it, but I will never outrun it truly, and one day, even if I run for many, I will sit and work, and it will make me realise, once again, that honest, unbiased work is where my contentment will always sit.
I write these words, and I ask: are they helpful? And sometimes, very rarely, I hear a whisper that says: yes. But then, if I do not write them, I would never know, so I must write, regardless of their usefulness. All honest work is useless right till it moves the world. All good work eventually moves the world. As for anything else that I do, my obsession stands. It is either helpful, or I cease doing it.
I am not here to only breathe and live shallow truths. I must use this time as if I am getting it again, by some magic or phenomenon I cannot explain. We are always careful with our second chances; that is how I live my life: in pretence. I shall use it to make it stand for something. There is no greater glory than helping the world spin; it takes many of us to nudge it a little. But the world does move, and the people do have a say in this. Yes, even if a little bit, they do have a say in this. Sometimes, a bit is all it takes to push something into perpetual motion.