Our happiness should hinge on our efforts, not on the results. On what one gives, not on what one gets in return. Not on achievements per se, but on intentions and the nature of one’s desired ends. They seem to be the only true measures one can hold oneself accountable for.

Every other criterion is beset with the inequity of odds.

One does not have a say in choosing one’s physical and mental constitution. One does not get to choose the backdrop for this “Theatre of the Absurd”. It randomly differs from situation to situation – from life to life.

Only ignorance can allow us to take unqualified credit or blame for the side of the bell curve we find ourselves on. This realization gives us some sort of control over happiness. And prevents the Gollum inside us from taking over. Once it dawns on us that there is more to life than hoarding, sharing smiles can become more fulfilling and meaningful than winning a lottery. And this happiness has an astounding permanence to it.