This is a blog post from
Jan 14
Dear Diary,
Today in the paper there was an interview of some random director (forgot his name) where he was made to answer a famous questionnaire. It seems this questionnaire got popular when a French fellow named Marcel Proust answered these questions. He was only 14 years old then and all the French peeps were super impressed with his answers. So they started calling it the Proust Questionnaire.
Big deal!
In that case all our history papers should be called the Sandy Questionnaires because Sandy’s answers are so much better than the ones in the textbook. Actually, Sandy should be made to write our history textbooks. Anyway everyone has their own version of history. Sandy’s version will at least make all of us concentrate in History period.
The other day he was saying that America entered World War II because a German spy had spray-painted the walls of the White House with red and blue cats and written “Scaredy Cats” in big bold letters. Ha!
Even I am going to make up some questionnaire and pass it around and then 100 years later my granddaughter will read it in the side paper and she’ll be like “Wow! The Nila Questionnaire! Nila Paati must have been super cool.”
But back to the Proust Questionnaire.
The first question was: What makes you the happiest?
Such a beautiful question, no? Random director gave some boring reply about how he feels happy when he is at home. Actually it’s not a bad answer. Maybe when I am 42 years old and running around the country making films, even I’ll be happy to go just home and relax with my family of 14 dogs, 3 cats, 5 squirrels and one husband.
Anyway, I decided to ask everyone the happiness question.
Here are their answers:
Poo: When I open my lunch dabba and find a surprise black forest pastry with a hand-written note from Daddy.
Rads: When it rains so heavily that they declare school holiday. FOR ONE FULL WEEK.
Sandy: When Chacha tells me adventures of his travels around the world.
Sophia Didi: When Siddharth Bhaiyya buys me chocolates (Yeah! They are dating! It’s a secret. So don’t tell anyone, ok? I don’t know if all you Private Diaries have an underground network or something. If you do, please please please don’t spill any of my secrets. Especially not this one.)
Manju Ma’am: When all of you pay attention in class. (Meh! That has never happened and will never happen. Not in 20,000 years.)
Amma: When your Appa buys me flowers.
Appa: When my family is healthy and happy.
Athai: When you and Shanky come home :)
Shanky: When Dhoni scores a century.
Murthy Uncle: When India wins the match.
Vanaja Aunty: When I feed the dogs on the street.
(I was actually surprised when she said this. She is usually so traditional that I never thought that there might be other sides to her personalities. I guess there is some good in everyone. That’s what Principal Ma’am was saying that day. Even the worst of criminals would have done some good in life.)
When I asked Najju Paati this question, she smiled her wise old smile. I guess that means that everything makes her happy. Not surprised at all.
We have new neighbours by the way. Varun Anna and Poonguzhali Akka. Varun Anna is a sculptor. He’s always in the balcony, sitting quietly chipping away at some rocks. The other day, he gave me a pen stand made of bamboo. It seems he only made it. He said he’d teach me.
Poonguzhali Akka is CRAH-ZY. Ha! She’s like a mini Najju Paati. I saw her talking to the mango tree that day. She has a name for all the trees, it seems. The mango tree is called Mr Mohanamurthy and the Peepul tree is called Miss Peeplipoo. She is the only Akka who climbs trees.
I asked them also the happiness question.
Varun Anna: When I find a beautiful stone.
Poonguzhali Akka: When I cycle to work.
I asked her what she does for a living. She said that she picks flowers. Is that even a thing? I don’t know whether to believe her or not. But she says it so seriously that I am almost convinced. God knows!
As for me. Oh so so many things. When Appa gives me a hug. When Amma makes chole for dinner. When Najju Paati is at home. When Dhoni gets duck out and Shanky starts crying. When Poo and Rads come home for sleepover. When the butterfly family visits our garden. When the carnations start blooming. When I read a Ruskin Bond book. When a letter arrives in the postbox with my name written in pink, cursive writing. When I get the window seat — bus, train, car, anything. When I find myself alone in the auditorium — so I can go jump, sing and dance on the stage without caring. When Sandy cracks one of his stupid jokes and we laugh and laugh till tears start rolling out of our eyes, and then laugh some more because of the tears. Oh this list is just endlesss...
So then why do all grown-ups keep talking about why we must get good marks so we can join a good college and get a good job that pays a lot of money so we can build our own houses and buy many fancy cars and travel around the world?
None of the people I interviewed said anything even remotely related to money and buildings and cars and travelling the world. Even that rich director fellow. He must have at least 5 fancy cars and 3 big bungalows and visited some 40-50 countries but all he wants is to be home with his family. I don’t think it even matters to him whether home is a big bungalow or a tiny apartment.
Funny, no? Money is not really a big deal. You just need it to buy food and clothes. (Actually, now you can even grow your own food. Our vegetable garden has started blooming.)
The real kind of happiness comes from little things in life. What makes me the happiest of happiest is dancing on the terrace when it rains. And no amount of money can buy you that. Maybe you can use the rain generators that Bollywood movies use, but that would just kill all the joy.
So thank you Universe for all the happiness-es you provide. You are the best.
Yours dancing-with-happiness-ly
Nila
