I've always wondered why I respect grief more than happiness. Happiness, almost always, seems shallow. So much so that, even when there are moments of genuine happiness, it seems more valued and lasting, only if viewed from the context of grief. I mean, let's say I find myself in a 'moment', I'm in the presence of true beauty, say a beautiful ocean, at sunset, and I'm at peace... surrounded by good people and memories of good times. Simple, plain happiness.
But, at such a moment, if I think about the bad times, difficult times, when I was messed up (OK more messed up than now), when things were a lot more messed up, the peace of the present moment seems worthwhile, and the happiness, memorable. Happiness, by itself doesn't seem meaningful anymore.
Well...not always :)
I think the reason behind it is.... humility. We are humbled by grief. It takes us to places within us that are true, genuine and meaningful. It is always honest. Happiness is not.
Well...not always :)
One such exception was a moment I had a couple of days back. It was just past midnight, and I was on the Bangalore Metro on one of the trial runs. The train stopped at the SV road station I think, and I got down and started walking on the parapet adjoining the tracks. A little while later, I turned back to see what was the position of the train from where I was. The headlights were at 'high-beam' and blinding me and I had to cover my eyes. Seeing me, the driver dimmed the lights and what do I see, the gentle silver-violet train at the station, and right behind it, the moon, and it was HUGE! Not white, but yellow and yes, HUGE!! By the time I whipped out my phone to take a picture, the clouds had done the needful, but it was just WOW, that scene, that moment. Not because it was beautiful that moment, but because it was the culmination of a period in my life which was honest and satisfying. It was like someone telling me at the end of it all that I'd been a good boy
:)
