From My Wife: Happiness Unlimited -1 – Sister Shivani (English)


Subject: FW: Happiness Unlimited -1 – Sister Shivani (English)

Hugh Paxton’s Blog has received this advice from my esteemed wife. Be happy! And she suggested I listen to an Indian woman telling me how to be happy.

How did this come about?

My wife saw me attempting to relax in the evening and told me to be happy.

I was.

I find being happy really quite easy. A proper slice of ham that doesn’t taste as if it has come from a pig shaped like a bright pink toxic LEGO block, and cheese (real cheese! When I eat cheese I want to smell a cheese that is stronger than my socks! And twice as lively!), with thin slivers of a great tomato (by great I mean a tomato that is red, sweet, just a bit sour and doesn’t require a hacksaw to cut through its skin), sandwich of good bread, pickles, English mustard, Colmans, no other choice.

Comfy and disreputable sofa, possible rain and a thunderstorm to rattle the windows and make things feel cozy inside, great Brit drama on the Box – Foyle’s War, so very good! If you’ve not tried Folyles War you must!

“The world can take a break and find that Malaysian Boeing? Me? I’m at ease and happy!” Thought I.

So why, I suddenly wondered, was she (my wife) making me wanting to feel happy?

I looked around and thought twice. Was I happy? My wife looked happy, my daughter looked happy, both of them looked beautiful. Hell, I’m always happy!

OK. Joy is not a constant human theme. Sometimes I’m not happy. We have a wooden house and it shifts its walls so things alter angles and pictures move slightly and you have to correct them. All my bushman spears and crappy arrowheads gave a shudder and a judder then fell off the wall and by unfortunate coincidence I made a (happy) attempt to catch them. Thirty minutes ago. Tetanus city! Who needs crushed beetles to bring down a giraffe when you have rust on your side.

Upstairs my wife is thinking it’s Hugh, the dog, Hugh and the dog, Hugh the cat vs the dog, rats or a giant dog trying to kill the other dogs or cats killing rats…I’m still happy.

And life works for me without an Indian woman telling me to be happy.

The nightmares come when my alarm clock clangs like a prison bell.


Slop out time! Big dozy, goofy grin from me! Ahh! Bird song! The smell of me cooking everybody’s breakfast! What a wonderful world!

And then while serving tea, making sandwiches, cleaning up a virulently white series of gobbets of dog vomit on our carpet (my favourite carpet, honeymoon purchase in Istanbul, took three months of effort, the Turkish Embassy in Japan’s intervention and the special Turkish tourist police before the fat bastard of a carpet salesman got around to sending it DHL – if I hadn’t been a travel writer for Japan Times I guess my wife and I would never have seen it again) He wasn’t a crook. Just hadn’t the wit to overcharge us to cover transport. If he had given us the carpet when we paid for it he wouldn’t have been beaten and hurled into a dungeon.

I clear the crap up, off my happy carpet, 6: 20, my wife’s up and off to save the world (and she does) My daughter is off at 6:40!

I give the dog a decent bowl of food and when it comes back for more and more and more and runs off with my documents I feel really happy! Kicking a beagle ! Wow!

This message has absolutely nothing to do with the spiritual teachings of happiness as described below. I suspect the guru and I would debate the real meaning of happiness. But I’d give her two weeks with my beagle and then read her latest wise words. We could do some editing!

Bottom line I’m a Happy Hugh but I’ve been criticized for that. Happiness equates with optimism and a degree of carelessness. “How harmful is Happiness?” Somebody wrote an academic paper on the dangers of being happy – he was a Cambridge PhD. I have his recorded speech somewhere but don’t want to hear it. Boring fart.

If you want an Indian lady to tell you how to be happy, and are feeling down in the mouth, read on! It has made my wife happy! It has made many people happy!

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