There are days, in which I feel like I’m drowning in the world’s sadness.
Like there’s this silent, heavy, invisible force of it slowly passing through the city, and only I, along with very few people, get to feel that.
Suddenly everything you lay eyes upon becomes a tragedy; suddenly every sound your ears pick up becomes a melancholic symphony. You look into the dark night sky, and see the full moon. You wonder if it could be some silent force bringing up what you hide deep inside. Suddenly you crave foggy sceneries, or a hazy sunrise that puts your noisy thoughts to rest and gives way to melancholy instead. Or you find yourself picking up an old notebook, filled with notes you scribbled in during the most difficult depression and thoughts of suicide. Everything becomes a sad piece of poetry; everything gets a calm, dark musical tone.
But what I find most amusing in such a time is the comfort this sadness brings along. I find most amusing this familiarity of it, where it feels like I can exhale in relief in its heavy presence, once again. But I think it’s more than familiarity.
I think it’s the capability of finding a sense of bliss in such a state. For bliss can lie in everything. In what we call happiness and what we consider sadness. I try quite hard to maintain a certain mode of positivity, a certain willingness to socialize and make happy, enlivening conversation, but there comes a time where I feel like I have to give my sadness its fair share.
And in this current phase I had to wonder… why am I trying so often, so hard to push it away, when I find so much bliss in that emotion, paving way for a lot of creative outcomes and precious thoughts.
I have such thoughts, because in my deepest, most overwhelming moments of sadness, I found my deepest sense of self, and I found an arising of love that is beyond words. I found music, art, and poetry. Jaun Elia, an urdu poet, paved my way through realizing happiness in pain.
I then somehow feel so close to God, to love, to Being, to that… home.
Sadness, although present so often in our life, is scary to most people. It is to be avoided. But it is still going to be there.
Sadness does not equal suffering. I think people easily find loneliness in their sadness, thinking no one else relates to their feelings, although we all know it too well. But no one wants to talk about it.
I think that’s what people, who carry a lot of sadness with them, must have experienced for an instant. I find myself heavily attracted to people who carry this calm sadness with them, even if they don’t know themselves how precious it can be.
I find myself thinking “you must have tasted it too, and I’d like to know how you got there.”
Although I know the Answer