Few years ago when I was traveling to Scotland by train in England, I found myself get lost in deep thoughts and wonder what I really want from life! I kept thinking if I was really happy, if this guy who held my hand like he never wanted to leave was really what I wished for. I touched the diary that I held close to me and started to go through the pages that seemed long forgotten. Sometimes when we pen down our thoughts we never go back to visit them even when they look at us with eager eyes! I seemed to be particularly hooked on to something I wrote about finding happiness and as I touched the pages of the diary I felt a familiar fragrant joy that I did not feel for a while.
" Happiness for me is getting lost in the woods and not wishing to find the main road because I found myself
Happiness for me is reaching out for that part within which lies in the corner in a rusty box with enormous dreams and hopes carved with words in the wake of finding yourself.
Happiness is meeting the lost self"
Today as I travel to find some shadows of myself through the lost roads, over joyous people, secretive explorers, mystic artifacts and thoughtful nights that I never want to let go, I see happiness smile back at me through my eyes!
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