When Joy Came Knocking at My Door

When Joy Came Knocking at My Door

Excitement often visits us unannounced, like a sudden shower on a parched summer’s day. The last time my heart leapt with such delight was not for a grand achievement or a monumental occasion, but for something far more tender, almost ordinary to the world, yet extraordinary to me. It reminded me that happiness often hides in the corners of simple experiences, waiting to be discovered with an open heart.

The occasion was as humble as a countryside outing—what began as an errand turned into a cascade of surprises. Plans were made to buy fishes, but fate—always mischievous in her ways—placed quails in our basket instead. What followed was a day embroidered with laughter, dancing to forgotten melodies, and a car-o-bar under the fading skies. In those moments, the world shed its heavy robes of worry, and life became a festival of small wonders.

Philosophers have long insisted that joy lies not in possessing, but in experiencing. Aristotle believed that happiness is the activity of the soul in accordance with virtue, and perhaps virtue lies in recognising the sacred in the simple. For me, that day was not just about quails, music, or even food—it was about gratitude, about being present, about feeling alive in a fleeting hour.

Excitement is often mistaken as a burst of noise, but in truth, it is a silent hymn. It is the soul whispering, “This moment matters.” To me, the laughter of my dear ones, the twinkle of delight in a child’s eyes, and the rhythm of old songs carried more depth than the applause of any achievement. It was a reminder that life’s true treasures come not in gold or glory, but in the togetherness of hearts and the simplicity of shared joy.

And so, the last thing that excited me was not a possession but an experience, not an object but a memory. It is stored within me like a flame—gentle, glowing, and eternal.

In the folds of time, I found my song,
A fleeting hour where I belonged.
Not crowns of fame, nor treasures rare,
But laughter and love that filled the air.

Excitement bloomed, so pure, so free,
A whisper of grace, eternity’s plea.
Life’s sweetest gift is not afar—
It shines where simple wonders are.