Have you ever wondered what happiness is?

Not the textual meaning of an emotional state characterized by feelings of joy, satisfaction and contentment, but something on a deeper level.

It is the feeling of devastation, the feeling of helplessness, the feeling of misery, sorrow, grief, and heartbreak that paves the way to happiness. A person who never felt those can never know what true happiness is. Now, can a rich person understand the happiness of finding a 100 Rupee note on the street? Can a common person appreciate the contentment of successfully growing a difficult crop? Can a doctor understand the joy of running a code without any errors? Can an engineer comprehend the happiness of saving a life? Can a top student appreciate the satisfaction of just passing an exam?

Happiness is not the same for everyone. And even for the same person, the same situations can not always bring happiness- the so-called satisfaction or contentment.

The ten-year-old Jiya didn't know having her parents by her side was the biggest happiness she could ever wish for, until one day.

Jiya had it all. A picture-perfect life.

From a loving family that seemed straight out of a heartwarming family drama, to friends who were more like loyal side-kicks, her life story unfolded like a best-seller you couldn't put down.

But did you know, the protagonists are the ones who suffer the most?

You might think the life of a side character is the worst, they are the ones used as stepping stones for the main character to shine, their sole purpose to appear in certain situations to help the protagonists succeed. But what after the little screen time role is finished? - they are free. They are freed from the shackles of the story to act in that particular way.

But the protagonists are not.

The leads, female or male are continuously put into unprecedented situations, heartbreaks, and trials to make them outshine the others. They remain puppets, not freed from the story even after it ends. A happy-ending? How can someone who has been a puppet all their life act on their own when it suddenly ends, with no more instructions?

"Happy Ending?" There is no such thing. Neither, for the side characters nor the main characters.

"A Picture-Perfect Life?" Nothing but an illusion. In the end, the choices we make leave us with 'Ifs.' The regrets we harbour, and the wishful thinking about what might have happened 'if' we had made different choices.

True happiness is fleeting and deeply personal, born from the struggles we endure and the choices we make. It is not an everlasting state but a series of moments and realizations that we come to appreciate, often through contrast with our sorrows and regrets.

Every morning, Jiya would wake up to the soft hum of her mother’s singing. Her servants would be downstairs, preparing breakfast, her father reading the newspaper on their cosy extravagant sofa with a cup of coffee in his hand. They would sit together, and have their meal with a smile that warmed the whole house. Jiya's days were filled with laughter and love, her biggest worry being the math problems she couldn't solve on the first try.

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Every Saturday afternoon, like clockwork, her father would take her to the park to ride her bicycle. Jiya had been pestering him for weeks to remove the training wheels from her bike. She wobbled at first, but her father's steady hand on the seat reassured her. After several attempts, she finally managed to ride on her own, her father cheering loudly from behind. The pride and joy she felt at that moment were unparalleled, yet it was just another Saturday routine.

The annual family trip to the beach was another predictable event. Jiya loved the sensation of the warm sand between her toes and the cool waves crashing against her legs. Her mother would build sandcastles with her, while her father would take her out to sea, teaching her how to swim. Those vacations were a magical escape, a time when the family bond felt unbreakable. But as wonderful as they were, they were also part of the expected rhythm of her life, anticipated and never truly questioned.

On weekends, Jiya and her family had a tradition of movie nights. They would gather in the living room, lights dimmed, and watch classic films while munching on popcorn. Her father’s laughter and her mother’s commentary added an extra layer of enjoyment to the experience. These nights were a comforting routine, a pause button on the busyness of everyday life. But like all routines, it became predictable, almost boring in its consistency.

Festivals were another source of immense joy. During Diwali, the house would be adorned with lights and decorations. Jiya loved helping her mother make sweets and her father lit the diyas. The family would come together, sharing stories and laughter late into the night. Yet, even these celebrations had a repetitive rhythm, year after year, becoming a part of the background of her life, taken for granted.

Then there were the rainy days, when Jiya and her friends would dance in the rain, splashing through puddles, their clothes soaked but spirits high. Her mother would have warm towels and hot chocolate ready when she returned home, shivering and exhilarated. These simple pleasures, the smell of wet earth, the taste of hot chocolate, and the cozy warmth of home, were what made Jiya’s life truly special. But even the rain followed its own predictable pattern, bringing with it the same joys and routines, so familiar that they seemed almost mundane.

It was a life filled with simple joys and unspoken security, a life she believed would last forever.

But alas! Jiya is the Protagonist.

14th October, if only she hadn't insisted on that family trip to the countryside. If she hadn't thrown a tantrum in the backseat, demanding they visit her favourite spot by the lake. If she hadn't stubbornly insisted on sitting in the front seat next to her father, distracting him just as the rain started pouring down in torrents. If only she had listened to her parents' warnings and stayed home that day. If it hadn't rained, perhaps the roads wouldn't have been so slick, and her father wouldn't have lost control of the car. If only she had been more patient, and less insistent, maybe they would have turned back before the storm hit.

Perhaps, if she hadn't been born at all, would they still be alive, her parents, her guiding lights now lost forever in the tragedy that unfolded that fateful day?

The 'ifs' haunted Jiya relentlessly. If she could rewind time, she would have made different choices. She would have cherished every mundane moment, every predictable routine, rather than pushing for something more, something different. Now, she has to face life without them, grappling with the harsh reality that happiness was not guaranteed, that 'ifs' were all that remained of the life she once knew.

The illusion of a picture-perfect life shattered, replaced by the stark truth of her own role in the tragedy.