The pursuit of happiness

When I was 5 years old, my mother always told me that happiness was the key to life. When I went to school, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wrote down ‘happy.’ They told me I didn’t understand the assignment, and I told them they didn’t understand life.

—Nick Offerman

Aloof

Yes, I am.

Grew up in a house where everyone had a greater right to the place than us, the year-round residents. Or caretakers, as I felt of us. A house which was rarely without visitors – friends, well-wishers and, mostly, relatives (well-wishing or not). A weak financial status didn’t help our independence either. And the bullish Punjabi culture around didn’t give much space to our soft, almost meek, personalities.

So, you may understand when I say I value my privacy. That I ferociously protect my private space and time. And I’m very Very choosy about who I call a close friend. Friends, yes, plenty. Close friends I’ll share my heart with on every topic – not even a handful. Yet, priceless.

It may also help you understand why I so diligently maintain my distance from the few close relatives I have in this country. Knowingly or not, they did spoil a lot of things for me while I was growing up. Many more than they could pay for with the gifts they brought on every visit to India. So, when I maintain this distance, I only do them a favour – by not interfering in their lives in a similar manner. Or giving them the faintest of hints that they could interfere in mine.

P.S.: These thoughts were brought out of hibernation by a voice-mail invitation from an Aunt to a year-end family gathering. Interestingly, she called from a private number, asked me to call back and confirm but forgot to leave her number – should I read much into this? :|