Happy Me!

The quite attack of happiness                     

warms my illegitimate and blandish sorrows,

boiling it at cent degrees and frothing on top,

like the gaudy hair vig of a circus clown

with the irony of smile on the face;

connotations of my evident happiness!

I suddenly wish to walk around smiling, laughing,

recalcitrant with the ethics of the world,

dumping the wig behind,

bothering not to dig its grave whilst

it stacks itself beside all

those discarded dreams and sorrows

lugubriously rejected

by disheartened fellow commuters of life;

assimilating itself into the sewage of brothel reality,

where it waits to be picked up by another;

another bathing in obdurate pusillanimity!

Wishful am I of the scope of my pining,

solemnly waiting uncalculated for their smothering;

those biological monuments,

ardent mnemonics of archaic genealogies

who hope to trident the irregularities

of human perceptions,

who egocentrically and derivatively and algebraically

define the tempo of the mere half km radius they care about!

But off I go, walking and talking and singing,

on my way to nowhere! Stoic! Nomadic!

I see them now, the esoteric nostalgists, approaching.

Brandishing their purview of civilized psyche

projected with uncivilized cataractic visions!

But I walk, in bliss, in ataraxia!

They litigate in the court of earth,

before the ever smiling gods and gorgeous goddesses,

against my hyperbolic histrionics,

my sorrow-immolating extra-jovial faux-pas,

and sentence me with pessimistic cruelty:

to the extreme terror of being laughed at in public!

Ha! How happy am I to be punished by kin!

How happy am I to have friends after all!

How happy am I to know that I am not all alone!

Hoho! How fortunate to have people to laugh with!

Ah, to see my happiness multiplying

from dearth to mirth

and a new birth! Happy Me!

-          Srk