The Happiest Day

When Simran was first asked the question, she was frankly puzzled. Is there any such day? Is it possible to have one in a life like mine, bound by routine; punctuated by the performance of duties – mostly unpleasant; - varied only by escapades which are a private treasury of pleasing memories, not incidents to be gloried in. These thoughts rambled in her mind, as she alternately scanned a blank horizon and dived into the chaos of memories. And then it flashed through her mind: of course, there is such a day which she learnt that she had passed the Master Degree exam with a very good score. Strange she should have forgotten it, for was she not in the habit of recalling the joyousness of that day whenever a pleasant thought was wanted? She was in her hometown after the Master degree examination was over. She was in a happy mood of relaxation from the grueling months of preparation that had preceded it. After that, any change would have been pleasant, and this was heaven indeed, - only to be disturbed now and then by doubts and fears and hopes all centering around the result of the all-important examination. But as she never dreamt that the publication could be so early, these reflections left no impression on her mind. Then suddenly her good eight hours sleep was broken by shouts and laughter, and her father, her mother, and her younger sister all calling out her name in various crescendos of endearment and joy. And her lovable and special one also calling out her name. She jumped up and rushed out of the room, and there were all of them and a printout copy of the result passing from hand to hand, and much laughter and more congratulations. It was thus that she learned that she had passed the all-important exams and finally the Master's degree with very good scoring which was the goal of her two years master's degree, the passport to career, the hope of her parents, the dream of her own. She had done it, and no mistake and a strange feeling of bliss wrapped her round.

“Bliss was it on that day to be alive, but to have passed was very heaven!” The rest of the day passed off in a blaze of glory. Friends and relations came to congratulate her; she went to pay her respects and earn the blessings of her teachers and elders. She was petted and pampered by the women as if she was some wonder-girl; and in between, the men, who perhaps, with their superior knowledge – (had they not all passed through it once in their lives!) – felt the irony of it all, - they advised and warned her about what was yet to come. Pujas had to be offered to Mata rani and household deities; blessings sad to be received with due solemnity and seriousness;- but she must say she liked it all, for she would not be human if this unanimity of goodwill did not touch her inmost heart. And yet, as she recalls that red-letter day, she asks me if indeed she should have been so happy. Had she been wiser, she would have been through the hollowness of that joy and assessed her second academic success not as a passport to fame, but as a harbinger of much tears and gnashing of teeth. How much better were the days when there were no public examinations to depress, no career to think of, no painful effort to anticipate the future. All this wisdom is true and worldly-wise. But still, the fact remains: she knew not what happiness really meant till the felt it on the day she passed the Master Degree final semester examination. “Success is possible by the love, courage, support and blessings of parents. Love is always not only for the boyfriend but also with the parents”.