Bliss?

Why does bliss always reside in an atmosphere that's not now?

In the clouds of smoke, the fury of cars, the coziness of drink, its tempting to think of a blissful day - vistas of rolling green mounted by swirls of white; a cool wind on the face, a comfortable chair. A warm drink, a book that soothes the eyes when it tires of the beauty. The sound of silence amongst the living, only the trees talk. And maybe a loved one, letting you be yourself yet making you want to be your best.

But I look back and I know that this bliss is just a tangible that I yearn for, and that I have found this bliss so many times (so many lucky times) in the most unexpected of places. Terraces cooling in the summer sun.....concrete steps of a juice outlet....the impersonal unconditional comfort of a bed....the glimpse of wet trees enhanced by the smell of the wet earth....the shimmering highway with the pulsating music....the post party sweat and the tears of the early morning...the crowds against the backdrop of mountains and dry fruits sellers...the clasped hands of a loved one....

And when I look back. I see the ghosts that walk with me to this very day. Some of them are changed, some of them only exist in memory....but they lie within me. Causing me pain, bringing me comfort; loving me, consoling me.

And yes, its been bliss. I dont need to run after vistas of my imagination because I have loved. And those vistas are a reality.