Comparisons

Happiness is found when you stop comparing yourself to other people.

I really don’t remember the last time I woke up with a smile like today; probably the only time I vividly remember sleeping with a genuine smile was back in 2015 when I finished writing My Suicide Letter around 6 in the morning. I strongly believe it is so because I did not pour my heart and emotions and subconscious feelings unlike ever, like I did these two times. And all this, despite staying as clear and simple in my language as I can.

But why compare; for I will remember smiling and even experiencing mild yet funny laughs, feeling the happiness up into my eyes also. For those few moments, including a never felt like fresh trip down to the local market for milk and bread for home, will always be mine now to rise up to any unforeseen situation.

Interestingly, I stayed awake entire night, penning those now-special thoughts, and slept only at around 8:30am for hardly three hours. Maybe, and definitely with focus on positive thoughts, next time I will experience the sleep also – all the more happily, with no comparing in the happiness department also.

What’s more interesting is that unexplainable daytime visions of about three (if I am not wrong in recollection) tall, dark and handsome young guys – in my home – with no one from family around but me – without any thought about everyone else’s whereabouts – as I could watch the guys – very chocolaty – all naked – with physique like I prefer – with huge dicks – but not erect – going about like getting ready for work.

After much thinking, I really don’t want to compare that momentary inception of a thought’s germ. It happened and I lit up with the recollection, and I want to continue enjoy the sudden but really hot thought.

The fastest way to kill something special is to compare it with something else.

Attending a Diljeet concert, no matter the technically poor seating, especially with peanut pricing, was nevertheless a first and I enjoyed every moment of it, without comparing the similar time to how it can be made better in future. The guy is phenomenal, what a talent and personality. I confess that I hardly knew his discography, at times even his most famous ones, forget about the zero idea about the lyrics, but I did felt the music and energy as much as I can. It was eccentric time being there, experiencing the Punjabiyat and living the beats as I really should be.

Bhai’s sudden outbursts over me, Sonia’s quirky questions on my silences and Jasdeep and his wife’s camaraderie among themselves and with all of us is what I take back home. However, surprisingly, today I was very quick to divert my mind whenever it fell into comparison mode. I did not take much to the heart also, like nothing apart from my own happiness matters for my life.

Comparison is the thief of joy.

The moments of feeling a tight pag, with a latter understanding of wet hairs, either through wet pag or through sweat, were all thought into  the sardari style from Manje Bistarein; I kept fixing my pag to a strange happiness.

The moments of feeling inadequate of not knowing much of Bhangra, by seeing the true blue Punjabis and Sikhs around, especially Diljeet were failing to take away my joy of noticing the moves and dancing them to actual perfection.

And the moments of not able to pitch in something worthwhile add on to the on-going conversations – be it in car or at the concert or at the dinner – all through in totality – failed somehow to kill my smiles as I soaked in every little positive vibes I could feel and soak in.

I now feel like despite the mild comparisons, I never felt like understanding or even caring for the journeys other went through. Because just by myself, I could be all positive, without needing to think about my little privileges which others may be dreaming big time.

My happiness, my joys, my smiles… nothing could be stolen today. The raging wars and doubts are ending, no comparison for a beautiful rainbow

A flower does not think of competing with the flower next to it. It just blooms.