The W-Fillets are famous for being funny, but also infamous for being cheerful. Those of you who have had the pleasure of my acquaintance know that I am bitter and cynical, and drip acid when I speak. I am prone to attacks of depression, and have exploded with rage more than once. However, ever since I entered Uttarayana last October, I have been Pollyanna-like in my cheery enthusiasm. Or, to take a more classical analogy, like Colin the security robot in Mostly Harmless. What? It’s a classic.
There is news. Whether it is good or bad news depends on whether you like the new and Uttarayana-enabled Aadisht or not. The dogged, unflagging, almost mindless cheeriness is about to multiply.
Yesterday, I saw a poster of The Hero in the window of the local gift and greetings shop. It was a poster printed and distributed by Archies- a content and retail chain that I have come to hate over the past three years for the mindless sludge it churns out, and for its symbiotic relationships with Shah Rukh Khan and Britney Spears. But this poster had a redeeming feature. No. Not redeeming. Much beyond redeeming. A saving, beatifying, and canonising feature. It was a poster of Preity Zinta.
I went in and plonked down my sity rupees. The kindly sardar behind the counter took down the poster, rolled it up, and secured it with newspaper and sticky tape. Another fifteen rupees spent on chewing gum to stick it up with, and the preparations were complete. Twenty minutes later, the poster was on the wall opposite my bed, and as a bonus, I had enough chewing gum to last me two or three weeks.
By now you’ll be asking yourselves what the hell this has to do with being cheerful. I’ll elain. It’s simple, really.
I have already elaborated on the importance of breakfasts and bathing (See The W-Fillets #5: The Most Important Meal of the Day and The W-Fillets #13: Cold Showers). If you get a good breakfast and bath at the beginning of the day, the rest of the day is bound to go well. The day starts off in a positive direction and keeps gathering momentum.
Breakfasts and baths are all but nonexistent at the hostel. But none of that matters any more, now that the first thing I see when I wake up on weekday morning’s is Preity Zinta’s dimples.
Preity Zinta’s dimples start from just above the line of her upper lip and proceed downwards until they reach Antarctica, where they tell the penguins funny stories. Once can study them for hours on end and still not gain a complete understanding- as with the Mona Lisa’s smile, or a course on analog circuits. They are facial features, true, but only superficially. I prefer to think of them as direct proof of the existence of a kind and merciful God who wants all of us to be happy. Or at the very least, a divinity that wants me to be cheerful.
With divine backing, I can only get more and more cheerful. Perhaps, at some point in the not-too-distant future, I will spark off an outpouting of joy and goodwill, the way Haley Joel Osment did in Pay It Forward. Assuming, of course, that cheeriness is as contagious as stupidity.
Paulo Coelho, says it is, and who am I to argue with Paulo Coelho?