Today, one of my favorite articles, is from Krishnaraj Iyengar, who has written about happiness, or more specifically how Finland has been named the happiest country in the world second year in a row. What makes its people so happy? And what exactly is happiness?
“When was the last time you were really happy?” This question was asked of us all during a workshop which I attended called….no, no kudos for guessing…. “happiness”. It was one of those sessions you sign up for on a lark over an afternoon during a convention with poetry competitions, prose readings, drawing lessons and other extracurricular activity on offer during school trips away from the city. I used to live in Alexandria, Virginia, USA, with my family at that time and the field trip was to a distant part of the state.
I recall none of us really being able to come up with any good answer. At that age – of about 14 or 15 – happiness I suppose meant not waking up hating your hair or your height. Or Mom not getting on your case about the messiness of your room or Dad dropping you off to school rather than the school bus. Or the sudden announcement by the city council that schools would be closed because of excessive snowfall during the night. In fact, my very first article came out in a newspaper called the “Alexandria Gazette” in which I urged the city authorities to consider keeping schools shut on snowy days because it is not pleasant to have to trip and skid on the slippery ice. That day, at the convention, I think the best reply came from a cheeky kid who said, “I’d be really happy when this session gets over.” I think the instructor heard the comment and said, “What was that?” I can’t remember the rest of the conversation.
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Today, one of my favorite articles, is from Krishnaraj Iyengar, who has written about happiness, or more specifically how Finland has been named the happiest country in the world second year in a row. What makes its people so happy? And what exactly is happiness?
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I remember having a Finnish friend in school, called Kira, who having just arrived from Finland did not speak English too well. One day in history class the teacher, keen to get to her learn the language early, asked her to read out a passage from the textbook. There was a date – the year 1234 – and instead of reading it as twelve thirty-four Kira happily, nonchalantly read, “in the year 1 2 3 4 “. Teenagers would hardly give up a change to break into uproarious laughter and they didn’t. But instead of feeling embarrassed I remember Kira also laughing uproariously with the rest of the class.
Another article which really stands out for me today and about which I would also like to share a personal anecdote is the one on migratory birds written by Dr Vaithianathan Kannan. One of the solutions he offers to the increasing threat that these beautiful birds face as they fly from country to country (without the need of passport or visa, thankfully) is that we create spaces for them in our gardens, lawns or even balconies.
My mother has a lovely little patch of green….her verandah in Kolkata….where I have seen birds flock to every morning for their feed. Ma gives them rice, popped rice, flattened rice and various other variations of rice. Throughout the day, until the sun sets over the horizon, sparrows, shaleeks, bulbulis and often a little whistling bird whom Mom calls “sheesh pakhi” descend on the branches of her plants, swing, squabble with each other and go. Only to come back the next day. Since there is a pond in view, we also see the occasional blue-green kingfisher and the milk-white stork.
The sparrows have a pet peeve. They look this way and that and when Ma is not looking, they chew up the hibiscus buds. Mom thinks they are mischief makers. I think they love the taste of “joba kusum” the oily part of the flower.
There are other lovely stories in today’s pages. Do enjoy them all. You are welcome to share your
personal anecdotes.
The writer is Editor, Features
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