Loud for a minute, silent for hours
My once cherished aspiration has always been to illuminate every room I enter, casting rays of light upon the faces of all, accompanied by the loud waves of laughter that fill the air. It doesn’t matter if there’s an established comedian(ne) in the house, I’m always the funniest in the room.
However, as the sands of time sift through the hourglass and the embrace of age becomes tighter, it becomes harder to make people laugh. With each passing year, we find ourselves burdened with the weight of personal responsibility, and the choices we make take on profound significance. The reality of constantly being conscious of what’s next weighs down even the strongest of us.
Joy attracts, and sadness repels. I know you always want to be in a happy environment, and I too crave it ardently. When humans express the warmest cockles of their hearts, the common factor I’ve observed is the quest for joy and true happiness. True happiness might be a dream(read mirage) but momentarily, anything that makes us laugh will suffice.
As the illuminating beacon of any room — the self-proclaimed joker — I consider myself incredibly fortunate. I need not utter a plethora of words before the audience grasps the essence of my jokes. I mean, sometimes, I only say a word and the resounding laughter lasts for minutes.
Nevertheless, every joke takes its pound of flesh. People are drawn to my funny side and an expectation of me always making them laugh is birthed. For years, I have lived up to these expectations but now, Silence is my treasure, it’s my friend and the sole entity that genuinely illuminates the path of my own existence. There are days I don’t want to say anything. On some days, I don’t want to hear anything either. Solitude is my newfound sanctuary but with my history, it’s harder to achieve.
I still say funny things. I still make people laugh. But unlike the teenage me, it’s no longer my duty to bear the weight of amusement of others. When I say a joke, my new instinct is to stay silent for the ensuing hours and not be reminded of my words.
Times have irrevocably changed. Now, I must write to sustain myself and without solitude, I’ll never be ‘in my bag’. To those I once felt accountable for their laughter, cherish the memories, for you bore witness to a fleeting greatness. To those with whom I now share company, oblivious to my former mantle as the “funny guy,” I hope I leave a worthy imprint in your heart. And to those whom I have yet to encounter, know that the ‘funny guy’ in me once existed.
Till we meet again, funny guy…
