Smile? Happiness?

Today, as I was returning home along my usual route, something caught my attention. It wasn’t unfamiliar I’ve noticed it before, countless times but I never truly let it sink in. This time, though, I saw something more. The road I was traveling on wasn’t just a path, for it was a border.

On one side, there were people who had everything they could ever need. Their wealth spilled over like it could never run dry, yet their smiles often seemed forced, their laughter fake, a corporate masquerade. On the other side, people struggled with nothing but each other, fighting blood and sweat just to scrape together a meal. And yet, somehow, their faces held a raw, unfiltered joy, a joy born not from possessions, but from presence.

I stood there, wondering where I belonged. And then I realized: I was already exactly where I was meant to be. In the middle. The middle class. A strange in-between where I carried the weight of both worlds. I had enough to get by, but not enough to escape the grind. I had the smiles of simplicity and the exhaustion of endless striving. The fakeness of one world and the rawness of the other both lived in me.

And yet, as I looked ahead, I noticed something deep. No matter how different their journeys, all three roads : the wealthy, the struggling, and mine converged at one destination. It wasn’t success. It wasn’t perfection. It was something simpler.

Peace. Or maybe, just maybe, happiness.


Comments

  1. pujaJanuary 3, 2025 at 10:19 AM

    at the end, the middle one knows the most. for they can't be the happiest but also not the fakest. they know something both the parties don't have...

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

For you, I would

For you, I would save my last piece, let you warm your cold hands in mine. For you, I would wake before the sun, just to send the first good morning sign. For you, I would share the "equal" slice, yet somehow, yours would always be more. For you, I would trade my window seat, so you could watch the sky and soar. For you, I would wish on every 11:11, dig through jokes just to see you smile. For you, I’d let you pick the movie, even if it means sitting through it twice. For you, I’d swap my lavender for black, pause the drop of my favorite song. For you, I’d fill my notebooks with hearts, missing you when days feel long. For you, I’d change all my passwords, reminding to the day you came. For you, I’d learn every rap verse you love, just to sing along and say your name. For you, I would take the longest way, just to "accidentally" pass you by. For you, I’d write a thousand poems, turn whispers into lullabies. For you, I’d fold love into paper, tiny hearts in every sha...
Read more

Fear? Maybe

 I’ve seen people fear many things, heights, depths, attachments, and more. Some let their fears show, wearing them as plainly as the weather, while others hide them behind smiles and laughter. I’m neither of these. I don’t show my fears, nor do I cover them. I lock them away, acting as though they don’t exist.  What I fear the most isn’t being forgotten—it’s not even being considered. While others grieve not being someone’s priority, I wrestle with the emptiness of not even being an option. I don’t matter enough to rank anywhere. I simply exist, unseen and unnoticed, like a shadow fading at dusk. There’s a theory about how men never move on from their first love, forever seeking her reflection in others. The thought amuses me, but it also terrifies me. What if I’m never truly loved by anyone? What if I wait my whole life for something that never comes? Well, I can still wait and fade. And this my fear, will for sure erase me, and I’ll happily be wilted knowing I wasn’t killed...
Read more

"I love black tea"

Once, I came across a question online: why do people dislike bitter things? I’m no philosopher, but I answered, bitterness feels unspoiled, raw, and pure. Black tea, black coffee, dark chocolate, they’re bitter, perhaps because they remain untouched, in their truest form. Yet, people often crave sweetness instead, something softer, easier to love. Perhaps that’s why he left. My love, like black tea, was too pure, too unfiltered, too bitter for him to savor. But I, a devotee of black tea, embraced his love as it was, both the sweetness and the flaws. I took it all in, and perhaps that’s what left me standing here, alone. Still, I wait, sipping my black tea, its bittersweetness my only companion, hoping he’ll return someday.
Read more