The only time I ever go on Facebook is if I get a notification that someone has written something on my wall or made a comment about something that might interest me.  That’s when I start browsing through my friends’ posts and I’ve noticed a trend. Many of them post notes about happiness or anything relating to it. Which got me thinking. What is my happiness?

Sometimes I feel like I’m having that Harry Potter moment. You know when Professor Lupin was training Harry on how to do the patronus charm? What was it he said? Think of something that makes you happy. A lot of the things that have made me happy or have made me feel anything akin to happiness are those that I’ve imagined. And then there are the real life moments that required no imagination.

I think the happiest moment of my life was seeing my family after five years of living in another country, away from them. It was like seeing them for the first time. Delirious would be the word.

My happiness was watching my parents’ face light up when they saw my report book at the end of the school term,of course that was only when I did well as they weren’t very good at hiding disappointment.

My happiness now is also seeing my sisters succeed in their ventures especially since they’ve had a rough start. They beat the odds and proved everyone wrong.

But you know what really makes me happy? Well, I wouldn’t just call it ‘happy’ more fulfilled, content, pleased, satisfied. It would be writing. I remember being at primary school. My class had to write compositions twice a week. Those days were the best of my school days. I would get lost in my story, no matter how simple or boring it seemed. Now a composition at that time, for an eight year old was pretty much 300 – 400 words or roughly a page and a half. I would go on and on and on, two pages, three, four, even five and if the teacher didn’t impose a stop time, I’d keep on going. It drove him mad. I would lose marks because I wrote too much! Imagine that.

All that aside, I loved the session that came after. Under the mango tree we would all go. Me, all excited, knowing that I had probably gotten the highest mark in class and that I would have to read out loud, this story I had written. Nothing gave me more pleasure than knowing that I could hold the entire class spellbound, my words weaving in and out of their consciousness, drawing them into my imaginary world.

My voracious appetite for words has followed me into adulthood. I can write for hours, any time, any where. My muse has got my back. Though she sometimes plays truant (I think it’s a she..could be a he…oh well, doesn’t matter).

Long after I’ve put aside the pen and paper, my characters follow me into my dreams, carrying on as if I was still awake. This is what I was meant to do. And now that I think about it, I believe happiness isn’t just one specific feeling. I suppose it is a mixture of contentment, pride, fulfillment, elation, excitement.

My life has been a never ending pursuit of happiness, in all its forms. A drug free high that you could store for later needs.

I am an author, It doesn’t matter if all I’ve got is a blog . It’s the one thing I know I can do. I’m sure of it. It’s my happiness and it will be mine.

© Reshma Mituram and WordCupid 2013. Unauthorised use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Reshma Mituram and WordCupid with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.