A fine laugh

She recognized the strangers laugh, a hearty laugh, full of dimension and grace. She knew nothing of the man but the laugh contained a vibrancy she forgot existed, it felt so close yet so far away. The stranger bent his head back as he laughed and the memories that hid in it came back to her.

She remembered her father’s powerful presence and his unmistakable laugh that filled the air with joy, uncontrollably giggling with her sister’s at the kitchen table. If only she could hear her father’s joy one more time, on those nights time stopped, the laughter was always contagious. Perfectly fine, she thought his laughter was perfectly fine.

She sat listening to this man’s laughter echo through the courtyard, an amalgamation of emotions flooded in. She felt guilt for conforming with her peers, laughing at others just to fit in, she laughed in order to avoid being laughed at, a strange purgatory she found herself in. Her thoughts turned philosophical. Laughter can be both freeing and condemning, it can bring a collective joy as well as a sense of relief from the seriousness of life, a social pressure being released. If people are laughing how can they hate. She was pleased with her evaluation.

The man’s laughter sat in the ether and she tried to forget all the times laughter was pointed at her. Specifically in the school yard the other girls would giggle from a far, a contrasting feeling from the laughter with her father. They say laughter is the best medicine but when the mob points its head towards you and laughs it can feel like poison. How can such a freeing expression be so condemning, she thought.

She remembered studying the medieval period in school. Her mind went straight to the peculiarities of the jesters. The jesters with their carefree sadness, they naturally understood the duality of laughter. The jester threw himself on swords for the magical reset of laughter. He can hear the sadness in laughter he can hear its joy, he can feel its power. The jester is the pagan in the Christian era, he whispers with the old gods. He gives his life so that we can laugh, he absorbs our collective sufferings, he runs absurdly towards the deep waters of man’s soul and laughs at us for trying to follow. Contemplating the jester and his folly made her feel alive. Laughter is the great equalizer it is shared by all, kings and queens, men of noble blood as well as regular folk, it does not discriminate. Life’s constants are death, taxes and laughter. The jester intuits this and uses it to his advantage. He fools us into thinking he doesn’t understand men, but he may understand us better than we understand him. 

She came back to earth as the guttural serenade came to a finish. She sat alone legs crossed, the memories faded and she felt as though they no longer belonged to her, the strangers laughter being a cathartic release. The memories were fleeting like life and hate and laughter. She got up and walked the cobblestone street and did not mourn the afternoon.