https://reflections.live/articles/17920/the-eternal-quest-of-happiness-is-it-an-illusion-article-by-rajat-chandrasarmah-19664-m5b256y7.html

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 The Path of Uncertainty

The following months were a blur of activity. Arun packed his belongings, bid farewell to his father, and took a leap of faith. He moved to New Delhi, where he quickly found himself immersed in the world of academia. His work was well-received, and he was soon recognized as a promising scholar in his field. His papers were published, and his research garnered attention from scholars across the globe.

But despite the accolades and the prestige, Arun never felt truly at home in the city. His heart still ached for Kaliya, for the simple life he had left behind. He longed for the peaceful evenings spent under the oak tree, for the familiar faces of his students, for the sense of purpose that came from teaching the children of his village.

Arun continued to commute between New Delhi and Kaliya, but the strain of balancing two worlds began to take its toll. The demands of academia were relentless, and the time he spent in Kaliya became shorter and shorter. He found himself increasingly disconnected from the life he had known, from the people who had shaped him.

The loneliness of the city was something Arun had not anticipated. Despite the bustling streets and the crowded halls of the university, he felt more isolated than ever before. The city, with all its energy and excitement, seemed to amplify his sense of disconnection. He missed the quiet of Kaliya, the sense of community, the simplicity of life. He missed the oak tree, which had been his anchor for so long.

One night, after a particularly exhausting day, Arun found himself wandering the streets of New Delhi, lost in thought. He walked for hours, trying to clear his mind, but nothing seemed to help. His thoughts were a tangle of frustration, guilt, and confusion. He had made so many sacrifices to get here, but at what cost? Was this the life he had always dreamed of, or had he simply traded one form of loneliness for another?

As he walked, Arun stumbled upon a small temple tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. It was a simple structure, with peeling walls and a small idol of Lord Vishnu. Arun entered the temple, finding solace in its stillness. He sat down in front of the idol, closing his eyes and offering a silent prayer. He asked for guidance, for clarity, for peace.

In that moment of silence, Arun felt a wave of understanding wash over him. He realized that his journey was not about choosing between two paths. It was about creating his own path, one that could accommodate both his dreams and his responsibilities. He didn’t need to choose between Kaliya and New Delhi — he could carve out a life that allowed him to live fully in both worlds. The city was not his enemy, nor was his village. Both held pieces of his soul, and he could embrace them both without guilt.

With renewed clarity, Arun returned to Kaliya, where he resumed his work at the school with a new sense of purpose. He continued his academic pursuits, but he also remained committed to the people and the land that had shaped him. Arun had found his peace — not in the pursuit of fame or success, but in the quiet balance between the two worlds he had come to call home.

And as the years passed, Arun continued to teach, to write, and to live with the knowledge that the greatest success was not in achieving the world’s recognition, but in finding harmony within oneself. The oak tree, ever steadfast, stood as a silent witness to his journey — a symbol of the strength, the sacrifices, and the quiet symphony of life that continued to unfold in the hills of Kaliya.(END)

Rajat Chandra Sarmah 

Guwahati , Assam , India 

29/12/2024

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Instagram: @rajatchandrasarmah5

 A Quiet Reflection

Months passed, and Arun’s life in Kaliya settled into a new rhythm. The seminar in New Delhi had left a lasting impact on him. It had opened his eyes to the vastness of the world, to the opportunities that lay beyond his village. Yet, despite all the grandeur and excitement of the city, he had come to realize that what he truly sought was not in the external world, but in the quiet moments that made up the fabric of everyday life.

His days were once again filled with teaching, but now, there was a new depth to his approach. Arun had always been passionate about history, but he now viewed his role as a teacher in a more profound way. He was not just imparting knowledge; he was shaping the future. The lessons he taught were not just about ancient empires and forgotten kings; they were about the lessons of perseverance, courage, and humility that history had to offer.

In his classroom, Arun encouraged his students to see beyond the surface of events, to look for the deeper meanings in the stories of the past. He often shared with them his own journey, telling them about the invitation to the seminar, his brief stay in the bustling city, and the lessons he had learned there. He spoke about the importance of finding one’s true purpose, of understanding that success was not always about wealth or fame, but about the impact one could have on the lives of others.

Arun’s words resonated deeply with his students, many of whom came from families that struggled to make ends meet. They saw in him not just a teacher, but a mentor — someone who had lived through the same challenges they faced and had found a way to rise above them. Arun became a symbol of hope for them, showing them that their dreams, no matter how small they seemed, were valid and worth pursuing.

However, despite his newfound sense of purpose, Arun could not shake the feeling of restlessness that lingered within him. There were still days when he would sit beneath the oak tree, staring out at the hills, lost in thought. He wondered if he had truly found his calling or if he was simply settling for what was easy. His dreams of a grand life, of making a difference on a larger scale, still called to him.

One evening, as Arun sat under the oak tree, the wind rustling through the leaves, he received a letter that would once again challenge his sense of purpose. It was from the same prestigious university that had invited him to the seminar. They were offering him a permanent teaching position — one that would allow him to lecture on history at the university, conduct research, and engage with scholars from around the world.

The offer was tempting. It was everything Arun had dreamed of when he first imagined a life beyond Kaliya. It was a chance to be part of something bigger, to make a lasting impact on the field of history. And yet, as he read the letter, a deep sense of unease settled in his chest. He had already made the decision once before — to stay in Kaliya, to honor his roots and his promises. Was he now willing to break that promise again?

As the days passed, Arun wrestled with his decision. He spoke to his father, who, despite his frailty, encouraged him to follow his heart. “You’ve always wanted to do more, Arun,” his father said softly. “You’ve done everything for this family. Now, do something for yourself. Your mother would have wanted that too.”

The words were a balm to Arun’s soul, but they also made him feel guilty. He had already given so much of himself to his family, to the village. Was he being selfish by considering a life away from them? Arun wasn’t sure. All he knew was that his heart was torn between two worlds — the quiet, simple life in Kaliya, and the grand, uncertain world of academia and fame.

One evening, as he sat at the dinner table with his father, a thought struck him — perhaps the key to his decision was not about choosing between two paths, but about finding a way to merge them. Arun realized that he could contribute to the world of academia without leaving Kaliya behind. He could continue teaching at the village school, while also pursuing his research and sharing his discoveries with the broader academic community.

It was a radical thought, one that seemed impossible at first. But Arun was no stranger to challenges. He had spent his life defying expectations, from his humble beginnings to his brief stint in New Delhi. Why not continue defying them now? Why not create a space where his dreams could coexist with his responsibilities?

And so, Arun made a decision. He would accept the teaching position, but on his own terms. He would teach at the university, but he would also return to Kaliya every month, continuing his work at the school and remaining close to his family. It would be a life of balance — of blending the best of both worlds.

Rajat Chandra Sarmah 

Guwahati , Assam , India 

28/12/2024

© All rights reserved by the author

Instagram: @rajatchandrasarmah5

The Echo of the Oak Tree

Back in Kaliya, the oak tree stood as it always had — steadfast and unyielding. Arun returned to his humble life, but he did so with a renewed sense of understanding. He no longer saw his village as a cage, nor did he view his dreams as something distant and unattainable. His journey had taught him that dreams did not need to be grand to be meaningful; they could be found in the simplest of moments.

As Arun resumed his life as a teacher, he began to see his role in the village in a new light. His students, many of whom came from humble backgrounds, were like him once — full of unspoken dreams and hopes. Arun took it upon himself to nurture those dreams, to show his students that greatness could be found in the everyday, in the quiet acts of courage and kindness that often went unnoticed.

The oak tree, once a silent witness to his doubts and fears, now stood as a symbol of his journey. It had seen him grow, just as it had seen generations of his ancestors. Under its branches, Arun found peace, knowing that his dreams were not confined to a city or a career, but lived in the heart of his village, in the lives of those he touched.

Arun’s story spread beyond the borders of Kaliya, inspiring others to reevaluate their own journeys. His tale became a reminder that dreams are not always about escaping the world we know, but about finding meaning in the lives we lead. And as the years passed, Arun continued to teach, not just history, but the lessons of life — the importance of family, of roots, and of the quiet symphony of solitude that each of us carries within.

Rajat Chandra Sarmah

Guwahati , Assam , India

27/12/2024

“Feliz Navidad,

próspero año y felicidad”

“Merry Christmas, prosperous year and happiness”

“I wanna wish you a Merry Christmas from the bottom of my heart.”

Merry Christmas to all my friends and readers .Have a great time

RAJAT CHANDRA SARMAH

GUWAHATI, ASSAM , INDIA

24/12/24

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Instagram: @rajatchandrasarmah5

The Journey of a Lifetime

The journey from Kaliya to New Delhi was nothing short of transformative. Arun, who had never traveled beyond the region, was both excited and terrified as he boarded the train that would take him away from everything he had known. The vastness of the country seemed overwhelming to him, with its endless stretches of land and people of countless backgrounds. Arun was a simple man, used to the quiet, slow pace of his village, and now he was thrust into the bustling heart of India.

The train ride, though long and tiring, offered Arun a glimpse into a world he had only read about in books. He watched as the landscape changed from the lush hills of the Northeast to the vast plains of Uttar Pradesh. The faces of the people on the train were as diverse as the land itself — some were like him, simple and humble, while others were sophisticated, carrying the air of city life.

As the train approached the capital, Arun’s heart began to race. He had heard stories of New Delhi, of its grandeur and its chaos, but nothing had prepared him for the reality. The city was a labyrinth of noise, lights, and people, each one rushing to their own destination. Arun felt small and insignificant amidst the grandeur, but at the same time, he felt a strange sense of belonging. For the first time in his life, he was part of something bigger than himself.

The seminar was held at one of the most prestigious universities in India. Arun, wearing a simple kurta and jeans, felt out of place among the other scholars, who were dressed in expensive suits and spoke with an air of confidence he couldn’t quite match. But when it was his turn to present, something extraordinary happened. As he spoke about the ancient dynasty he had researched for years, his words seemed to flow with a clarity and passion that captured the audience’s attention. He spoke of kings and warriors, of the rise and fall of empires, and of the timeless lessons that history taught us.

The room was silent as he finished. There was no applause, but the looks of admiration in the eyes of the audience were enough. Arun had done it. He had stepped into the world he had always dreamed of, and he had made his mark.

But as the seminar ended and the attendees moved on to other discussions, Arun found himself alone in the corner of the room. For all the success he had achieved, there was still an emptiness inside him. The city, with all its grandeur, had failed to fill the void he had carried for so long. Arun’s dreams, once so vibrant and full of promise, now seemed distant and intangible. He had achieved what he set out to do, but at what cost?

The faces of his family back in Kaliya haunted him. His father’s frailty, his mother’s absence, and the promise he had made to stay with them weighed heavily on his heart. He had chased his dreams, but in doing so, he had left behind the very people who had shaped him. The city, with all its opportunities, could not erase the guilt he felt for abandoning his roots.

Arun spent the next few days in New Delhi in a state of confusion. He attended meetings, visited museums, and explored the city, but none of it brought him the peace he had hoped for. The dream of the grand city that had once seemed so alluring now felt hollow, like a distant echo of something he could never fully grasp.

It was during a late-night walk through the streets of Old Delhi that Arun’s perspective began to shift. As he wandered through the narrow alleys, the sounds of the city — the honking cars, the calls of vendors, the chatter of people — blended into a symphony of life. It was chaotic, but it was also beautiful. The city, with all its imperfections, was alive. And in that moment, Arun realized something important — his dreams were not confined to the city or the seminar. His dreams were in the stories of the people he met, in the history he taught, and in the simple acts of love and sacrifice that shaped his own life.

Arun returned to Kaliya with a new sense of purpose. He had seen the world beyond the hills, but he had also realized that his place was here, in the quiet corners of the village, where his history, his family, and his roots had formed him. The grand city of his dreams was no longer the goal; the journey itself had become the destination. Arun had found his peace, not in the cities or the accolades, but in the quiet symphony of life that unfolded with each passing day.

Rajat Chandra Sarmah 

Guwahati , Assam , India 

24/12/2024

© All rights reserved by the author

Instagram: @rajatchandrasarmah5

The Whisper of Dreams

In the sleepy town of Kaliya, nestled among the misty hills of the Northeast, lived a man whose life was as unassuming as the river that flowed through the valley. Arun Sharma, a 45-year-old school teacher, had lived in the shadow of the mountains his entire life. Every day, the same routine — waking up to the crowing of the rooster, sipping tea from his chipped ceramic cup, and walking the narrow, cobbled streets to the local school where he taught history.

Despite his monotonous life, Arun had a peculiar dream — one that had followed him since childhood. He dreamed of a grand, vibrant city, a world away from the quiet town of Kaliya, a city where stories of greatness were written not in books, but in the lives of ordinary people. It was a place where history was alive, and each person’s life intertwined with the tales of the past. But, despite his dream, Arun had never dared to leave Kaliya.

His family had lived here for generations, and the weight of tradition kept him rooted. He often found himself questioning why he never sought a life beyond the hills, why he never chased the ambitions that burned quietly in his chest. Was it because of the sacrifices his father had made, or the promises he had made to his late mother to never abandon the village?

Arun’s only companion in these reflections was the grand oak tree in the courtyard of his house. Every evening, after his work was done, he would sit beneath its sprawling branches, watching the sun dip behind the hills. The tree, with its massive trunk and countless leaves, seemed to whisper secrets of the world to him. Arun would often close his eyes, listening to these whispers, feeling the weight of his dreams and the warmth of memories.

The town of Kaliya was beautiful, but its simplicity had begun to feel like a cage to Arun. He was torn between his familial duties and his unfulfilled yearning for something more. Yet, he stayed, each day the same as the last, until a letter arrived that would change the course of his life forever.

It was an invitation to a prestigious seminar on history in New Delhi. The letter was from an esteemed university, offering Arun the chance to present a paper on an ancient dynasty he had spent years researching. This was the break he had been waiting for. It was the moment his dreams seemed to touch the ground.

But there was a problem. The village needed him, and his family depended on him. His elderly father, who had lived through a turbulent past, would be devastated if Arun left for the city. Arun had always been the pillar of strength for his father, who had lost everything in his youth, including his own dreams. Arun had promised never to leave, to always care for him in his old age. And yet, here was an opportunity that could propel him into a life he had long imagined.

His thoughts were a whirlwind, his heart torn. The invitation sat on the table, like a symbol of both hope and despair. Arun sat by the oak tree that evening, his mind racing. Would he follow his dreams and risk abandoning everything he had known? Or would he stay, sacrificing his own desires for the sake of others?

As the cool evening breeze swept through the valley, Arun made a decision. He would go. He would take the chance, not just for himself, but for all the unspoken dreams of his ancestors who had never had the opportunity to break free. It was time to step beyond the horizon and write a new chapter in his life.

Rajat Chandra Sarmah

Guwahati, Assam , India 

22/12/2024

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INSTAGRAM : @rajatchandrasarmah5

As the final rains of the monsoon approached, Riya and Arun prepared for their first exhibition together—a showcase of Riya’s crafts and Arun’s art. They poured their hearts into the event, each piece telling a story of their journey.

On the day of the exhibition, the atmosphere was electric. Villagers gathered to admire their work, and the couple felt the excitement in the air. But Riya couldn’t shake the feeling of dread about her parents’ potential reactions.

As the evening wore on, her fears materialized. Her parents arrived, skepticism etched on their faces. “We just came to see what this is all about,” her father said, arms crossed as he surveyed the room.

Riya’s heart raced as she approached them. “I’m glad you came,” she said, forcing a smile. “Please, look around. Tell me what you think.”

They moved from one display to another, and Riya held her breath, waiting for their judgment. Arun joined them, explaining the inspiration behind his art. To Riya’s surprise, her father’s expression softened as he listened.

Finally, they reached a piece that depicted a stormy sky, vibrant colors swirling together. “This is beautiful,” her mother said, her voice filled with awe. “It feels alive.”

Riya’s heart fluttered with hope. “It represents the struggle we face—the chaos and beauty of our journey together,” she explained. “Just like the monsoon, it’s a part of life.”

Her father nodded slowly, the walls around him beginning to crumble. “You’ve both put a lot of effort into this. It’s commendable.”

As the night progressed, Riya and Arun felt the warmth of acceptance envelop them. Her parents engaged with other villagers, sharing stories and discussing their daughter’s talent. They began to see the passion behind their choices, realizing that happiness might not fit into the mold they had created.

As the final raindrops of the season fell, washing away the remnants of summer, Riya stood beside Arun, their hands intertwined. “We did it,” she said, her voice filled with wonder. “They actually came around.”

“Together,” Arun replied, a smile lighting up his face. “We fought for our love, and it’s stronger than ever.”

As they watched the last of the monsoon clouds drift away, Riya knew that their journey was far from over. There would still be challenges ahead, but they had learned that love, when nurtured with understanding and resilience, could weather any storm.

With the promise of a new season on the horizon, Riya and Arun stood united, ready to embrace whatever came next.,(END)

Rajat Chandra Sarmah

Guwahati, Assam , India

21/12/24