On Happiness (writing exercise)

[deadwine]

I wrote this for an application requirement recently and felt like it was a shame to just leave it there.

Prompt: Happiest Memory

Happiness hasn't been the easiest to come by since becoming an adult. But when it has come, it has been easy - simple.

There is a coffee shop fifteen minutes away from University that my friends and I used to haunt while we were studying. The pancakes were to die for, the iced tea not-too-sweet and the coffee strong; more importantly, the ambience was cosy and warm even on a summer day peaking at fifty degrees.

For all intents and purposes, the moment I'm thinking of was a casual weekday, a routine after-class brunch, the same three-four people crammed into a rickshaw to make our way there. By this time we were in our final year and our niche little coffee shop had become a hotspot for couples and tourists. I think we spent almost an hour waiting in the area before a table was ready for us.

I don't remember the taste of our food, though Google Photos tells me that there were pancakes and sandwiches and cold coffee shakes galore on our table. I don't remember how long we spent there eating, chit-chatting, passing the time that was ours to have and to hold.

What I remember though is the tall, tall tree visible from the glass window behind my friend - too early in the year to be flowering and yet undeniably beautiful. I remember the sunlight streaming in through the same window, a warm spot in the middle of our table leading us to shed our outermost layers, still wary of the ruthless winter outside.

The thing that has its teeth sunk into the ridges of my memory most sharply? The laughter bubbling in my stomach as I braced a palm against my belly and leaned back to let it out, peals and peals of it unending as we bumped shoulders and talked on. Laughter that said there was nothing wrong in this world nor would there be.

I still wonder if that would be my happiest memory if not for the pandemic, swift and brutal as it came the next month snatching away the last of my college days, my time with my friends and all that ephemeral joy of youth that we think will last.

In less than three weeks after that day, I had packed my bags and been sent home indefinitely. But now, four whole years after, I can still recall the touch of the afternoon sunshine as it had caressed my cheek.