Laughter Reloaded

I’ve always been a happy child. My mom always loved to brag about it. “My baby doesn’t cry like the others,” she would say with so much pride as she bounced me on her lap in front of her friends. She called me a contented child. And truly I was.

Image is mine

I found joy in almost everything. Whether it be bubbles, coloring books or even skipping ropes.
Growing up, I never needed much to laugh, and my happiness became a kind of topic for conversation among our relatives.

But during my teenage years, between thirteen and fourteen, something shifted within me and I lost that joy. I started feeling so gray. There was no trigger of any sort and no heartbreak. It was just a slow, unexplainable sadness that settled like dust on everything I once enjoyed. I stopped laughing as often and stopped playing as usual; except online games. Those became my escape route.
My dad called it maturity but deep down I was just not feeling good.

Soon, I became addicted to those online games.
I would skip meals, spend my transport fare and even go as far as borrowing money just to play at the game house. FIFA, Call of Duty, Mortal Kombat; you name it.
It didn’t even feel like fun anymore, maybe just a necessary numbness to my sadness. My mom became very worried. “You're drifting Dinma,” she would whisper after looking through my report card. “This isn’t my happy girl.”
But I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t let the games touch my grades. So I balanced it; I barely did though.

By the time I entered the university, the whole thrill had worn off. The games no longer held me bound. In fact, I started to go out more while making friends. It felt like I was crawling back to that happy child I once was.

Then came COVID.
The lockdown dragged me back into that cave I thought I had eventually escaped. I was home, lonely and so anxious and gaming again. Only that this time, I found something new and that was cryptocurrencies. I studied charts during the day and played games at night. Surprisingly, I made decent money from trading. It was really something, at least.

But when the world opened up again, I realized how drained I felt. I didn’t want any more screens. I didn’t even want tokens or my favorite avatars. I just wanted real laughter, real people. I wanted fun. Like simple, pure fun. The kind I hadn’t had since I was a teen.

So I picked up my phone and called my Bestie Lizzy.

“Let’s organize a hangout,” I said to her.

“A hangout?” she echoed. “Like a party?”

“No, no. For kids. Like games, snacks, you know, just... a day of fun.”

She paused. Then laughed. “You no play when you small?”(Meaning: didn't you have fun when you were a child?)

I chuckled. “I did o. A whole lot. But I want this. I just love kids and you know. So I just want to create something joyful.”

Lizzy was skeptical at first, but after some pleading and maybe a little blackmail about exposing her throwback photos; she agreed. I instantly got to work. As a graphic designer, I cooked up a colorful e-flier that screamed fun. Lizzy helped me distribute it on social media and at our place of worship.

We planned for fifty kids. And the venue was to be my dad’s event hall; so spacious and air-conditioned. The only request to the parents was to bring along one game item. Whether it be a skipping rope, board game, or even balloons.

To make sure no child would go hungry or bored, we had a snack table that looked like a snack Pyramid; stacked with popcorn, biscuits, fruit juices, ice cream, chocolates, and the regular puff-puff. We had enough to feed an army of happy children.

When the day came, I wore a bright yellow shirt with my name “Dinma” scribbled across it. I took the mic and welcomed the kids with an energy I didn’t even know I had left in me. They squealed with joy. Some danced, others tugged on Lizzy’s dress for attention. It was such a beautiful chaos.

We played musical chairs, had a dance-off, ran a three-legged race and had a Snake & Ladder championship where the winner got a dozen school notebooks. The kids screamed, laughed, and bounced around like tiny fireworks of joy.

image generated using Meta Ai

I don't know if it was between where I started wiping spilled juice and fixing twisted shoelaces, that I started feeling something melt inside me. I think it was the whole fog of sadness. It was gone. Maybe for that moment but yea I was happy again.

As the day began to turn gray and the hall slowly emptied, Lizzy plopped beside me on the floor, with both of us feeling so exhausted and still smiling.

“So this is what you wanted?” she asked, her voice filled with amusement.

I looked around at the biscuit wrappers, the balloons, the scattered game boards, and nodded.

“Yes.”

She laughed. “Of a truth, having kids around you makes you forget your sorrows and brings you joy.”

I smiled genuinely, and whispered, “Exactly.”

We stayed a while longer making sure to pick up plastic cups and crumpled napkins, humming to the songs still playing in the background and the echo of the day’s laughter.

It was such a sweet and colourful experience and just like a lollipop, it was gone too soon.
And maybe…..just maybe; I’ll do it again.

Thanks for reading my blog💕