At the heart of cosmic metaphors lies a confusion of categories,
That divides experience into dualities, of sacred and profane;
Of sublime and ordinary, and humour it is that demolishes them.
Some masters have made humour and laughter, the midwife of
Truth, as a means of illumination, beyond its amusement value.
There are many a parable laced with wittiness, humour and hilarity
Gleeful mirth liberates inner tensions, altering it into inner harmony.
And then, we do not laugh at ourselves or others, neither cynically
Nor sarcastically, not even with a bitter, mocking or a defiant tenor
We laugh not because we have acquired something others don’t have.
It is the laughter which emerges from compassion and amusement
At the interplay of knowledge and ignorance, in our everyday lives
It is the humour of recognition, of the pleasure and pain spun as one
It is the acceptance of the opportunity of life, however ephemeral.
It articulates the bliss of existence in the smallest of particles, without
Having to clutch at them, for they are not ours for a jiffy or perpetuity.
It is a trip to heaven and back, in that moment of the lovely laughter
It’s not the last laugh, but a lasting assurance at the heart of our being.
Contributed by Archana Kaul