The fact is, we are all trying to be happy. Everyday, in small ways and large ways, whether we are conscious of it or not, we are consistently in the pursuit of happiness — or at least the ingredients of it. We do things, say things that bring us a little closer to our pet fixation — though sometimes the opposite happens and your efforts only seem too futile. It doesn’t stop you from trying, even if you have to start all over again. So why is it that we also spend plenty of energy trying to hide our happiness from a lot of people? Are we simply superstitious, or is it true about the evil eye? The notion that flaunting it is a sure way to lose it; because there are always people who want your piece of sunshine for themselves and have no scruples about ruining everything just as long as nobody gets ahead of them. Someone has some very good news — a car, a job, usually a man, but she would rather keep it to herself until the secret just kind of slips out on its own, which is what happens in the circumstance of a “secret pregnancy”. She might tell a select few — with strict instructions “not to tell”. Of course that is like telling the wind not to blow, because in record time, whispers of “the secret” are doing the rounds. “Did you hear about whoever? Imagine she is dating her boss.” “No way! That fake man?” “Is he fake?” “Yeah! He is the one who was sacked for theft last year, and then formed his own company. And he drinks too much. Moreover, he has another woman already!” “Really! She didn’t tell me that. No wonder she didn’t want to tell me about him.” “You know that chick, she is such a liar.” “Yeah! She said they were getting married this year, but I don’t think so. And why marry a thief? How desperate can you be?” They laugh loud and long. And so the story floats about, finding refuge in many willing ears. The poor girl hears it eventually, from a friend who wants to help — but is secretly one of those people who get a thrill from being eyewitnesses to disaster, because she gleans her happiness from the debris of other people’s lives. Distraught, the girl convenes a meeting with the original recipients of “the secret”. It yields nothing, except tears and recrimination — nobody is happy about anything anymore. And everybody unwittingly makes a vow not to reveal any more important information, particularly pertaining to their pursuit of happiness. That is probably why few people say “I am fine”, and mean it, when you ask after their wellbeing. Very many like to ask, “how is life?” Be very afraid — why do they want to know? Surely not so they can kill the fatted calf and celebrate with you. The proper response required is a demure “I am 50-50”, or, “life is so-so”, delivered with a self-deprecating grimace and lowered eyes; meaning, I am well enough to get by, but not so well as to provoke anyone into petty acts of jealousy with the intention to harm my being. Because if I tell you about the fountain of happiness in my life, you will probably throw poison into it so that none of us can imbibe from it. Therefore, I am going to lie low and keep myself to myself, if that is what it takes to get a little peace around here. Why is it so difficult to be happy for other people? Possibly, the pursuit of happiness is a zero-sum game; there is simply not enough to go around, therefore some can only accrue it at the expense of others. Like it is with money, when you have a little happiness, fraudulently or legally accrued, you better be looking over your shoulder.