Monday, December 12, 2005

doing g-d's work..

So I went through a bout of the *cough cough* and the *sniffle sniffle* last week, because of which I missed my regular post. Apologies hence and a promise, mes amis, that I will make up for it. on to regular programming.

I hate happy people. Happiness is an unnatural state. If God wanted us to be happy, he would have filled the world with sunshine, hot women and reshmi kebabs. (replace 'woman' with 'man' if you are a woman or are gay-not-that-there's-anything-wrong-with-that)

Take that simple question: "How was your day?" I mean, come on. Surely *something* is always wrong: Maybe you got constipated, maybe your boss yelled at you, maybe you haven't gotten to nail that hot chick (women: substitute, substitute) who sits across the aisle from you at work. I hate it that social mores require us to answer that question with a "Not bad". Whatever happened to honesty?

People like me have an important role to play in a hypocritical society like this. I belong to that little-known band of people dedicated to carrying out God's *true* intent: we are the happiness-destroyers. I don't want to toot my own trumpet here, (heh, 'TOOT my own trumpet', don't you just *love* the sound of that phrase? :)), but I am a pro at making people miserable. Here's a sample conversation that happened between me and an acquaintance called P, a fellow graduate student, who like me, left a comfortable life to pursue intellectual ambitions. This was a few days ago, on the way to the subway station.

"How's life?", I asked her.
"O-kay", she replied, eyeing me suspiciously.
"Surely its not Okay"
"No it is. Actually my day was quite good. I got some work done today."
"So?"
"So, it means I've fulfiled my purpose for the day, and I have the right to feel happy about myself"

Oh, sweet. A home run.

"Reaaaally?", I asked her, "You are old and fat and ugly. Nobody really likes you, and what you do is pointless. After you die, you will have made no difference to the world. To top it all, you left a cushy job with a chauffeur driven car to be in this hell-hole, and now you scrounge around for free food in graduate seminars. What makes you think you have the right to feel happy about yourself?"

I would have thought people would be grateful for having been shown that big picture perspective. Sadly it is not true. P doesnt talk to me any more. Some people just love to live in denial.

its a thankless job, this one, i tell you.

3 comments:

Falstaff said...

heh: At least you're in good company. Have you read Schopenhauer on happiness? His point is that happiness is an entirely negative state - it's the absence of pain / sadness. And that this must be an illusion because in the big picture we're all going to die and that's that. The metaphor he uses is of a bunch of lambs prancing about in a meadow - the only way they can be happy is if they don't recognise that they're shortly going to be someone's dinner

Anonymous said...

ah but you seem to misunderstand us happy people. we, who come from the land of 'wheee, look at the glorious sunshine' and 'awww, look at those pretty flowers bobbing in the breeze', have our own game plan. big smiles, chirpy voices, yayyy-s, fluffy bunny rabbits and fluttering around like a ballerina whose tutu you want to set on fire - it's all really just a way to get your goat. put a chirp in the same room as a grump and the grump is sure to leave, likely making a pit-stop to retch, on his way out.

annoyingly grouchy or annoyingly chirpy, as long as one annoys, we think we've mostly served the purpose we were put on this earth for.

Heh Heh said...

falstaff: i've gone through the world as will and idea, but never managed to finish it. i think, schopenhauer is too negative even by my standards, but lets talk about the lambs instead. i like mine cooked tender. lamb is a fatty meat and care must be taken not to overdo it.
megha: no you don't get our goat. we love lamb, but it doesnt mean we don't like goat. roasted and salted. with gravy and fresh mustard.
*sigh* i am very very hungry.