Embracing “Noise”

The “noise”, as I called, bothered me. It was chaotic in my house. Bedtime was the time where “peace”, as I called it, was cherished.

Silence and calm was much craved for.

One day, I got what I wished for: A full day and half of silence and calm.

But after an hour, it was unbearable. It felt empty and hollow. I had thrived in this particular chaos, I realised. The one or two hour of silence before bedtime was perfect and enough to recharge.

I realised: I missed the life in my house, that thing that I had once called noise and chaos.

What good was the peace without family and their voices and TV channels booming in the home? What’s anything without their existence?


My Journey Towards Happiness

Renunciation. Is that the solution? Only when I lose it all shall I find my happiness?

What is happiness?

I think it is the attachment to so many things that is causing this chaos in my head. Was Buddha really right when he spoke about detachment? Detachment from materialistic things I can understand and give up. But detach from those few human relations that I have? I can let go of people but not those who have had impact in my life. Including my family. I cannot detach myself from them.

I already give out very less of me. I had said I will try to give out more. But I do not understand what stops me. All the time. The lesser the people know, the better? Am I really saving myself the pain or am I saving those people from the pain? Do people actually want to listen and share? I don’t know. Is this coming in my way of happiness? By thinking about not giving myself out to the world? Happiness makes sense only when shared, right? Should I be concerned by this? So far, I am numb about it.

Money. It is a devil in angel’s disguise. That is what I would love to call it. It gives me control. I can get what I want with it when I cannot seem to get other things in my life. It seems to give me happiness. I also learned that it was momentary. It never could help me forget the other pending disappointments. At one point of my life, it had only pushed me to work more like a donkey towards realizing someone else’s dreams, so that I get paid more and then buy some more things and make myself and others around me happy.

It was not enough. So, I tried something else. I made it even more basic. I switched jobs. I picked the one where I would actually learn. Learn things I couldn’t name. Learning seemed to be vast. And I picked that over money. I know, I am still helping someone else achieve their dreams. My dreams are maybe long forgotten or lost. But, right now my journey with those friends towards their dreams is pretty good. My selfish motives, known only to me, is getting satisfied. And trust me, this journey is not a bed of roses. That is what makes it more adventurous. It is challenging, frustrating and tiring. There is something there in that journey that gives me tiny pleasures. Not happiness.

And I am back to questioning, what is happiness? I do not understand it anymore. I know it is a feeling. But what exactly is happiness?

Should I go down to minimal basics now? Become as minimal as a baby is? With nothing but a few clothes to wear, food that would sustain me and those close relations that would help me grow? Give things away in my room, in my wardrobe, in my drawers. Give away my books, my companions since I was growing up. I don’t know yet if I will have the heart to give my books away. Maybe, I am worried I will give away my memories with them. But I will try. I will give it away to people who will keep it safe. People who will appreciate them.

The more I seem to hold on to things, the lesser there seems to be room for anything else. Is this coming in the way of happiness?

These all seem to be theories and desperate attempts in attempt of pursuit of happiness.

But whatever needs to be done, must be done.

But if you have understood what happiness is, are you willing to share that with me? And tell me, what is happiness?

Finding Buddha

This is one of those unrealistic dream of mine. Or maybe it is just a wish born out of current obsession. This is it: Right now, I would give away my world just to hear how Buddha would have sounded like.

How would he look at me when I asked all these questions: What inside him snapped that made him think of all the ideas that he shared with the world? How did he really work on his detachment? One cannot just snap it all, right?

And if he agrees to answer me all that and the rest of my questions, I wonder how he would talk – his tone, his pitch, his expressions.

Would he argue with me wherever there is conflict in our ideas? Would he try reason with me? I wonder if he will do all this with a constant smile on his lips.

Right now, it feels like all the answers to my confusions lies in his voice. Listening to his thoughts and ideas in his own voice. Looking at his serene half closed eyes as he answers it all.

If, hypothetically, it actually happens, I think I would be blank and have nothing to ask him. I think my mind would be clear and empty to absorb whatever he would have to say. There will be peace in whatever voice he would possess.

I cannot even imagine a voice that would sound like him in my head where he is as alive and breathing like me right now.

Maybe, one day I’ll really find Buddha.

A girl can always dream. 🙂