Laughter is regional: a smile extends over the whole face.

In the words of Malcolm de Chazal, the Mauritian visionary of paradox and imagery, we find a meditation on the essence of joy: “Laughter is regional: a smile extends over the whole face.” These words, though brief, invite us to consider the difference between what bursts forth in a moment and what endures as a state of being. For laughter is sudden, loud, and confined to its own season, while the smile is steady, quiet, and suffuses the entire countenance with light.

When de Chazal calls laughter regional, he reminds us that laughter belongs to a place and a time—it is sparked by circumstance, bound to the fleeting spark of a joke, a surprise, or an absurdity. It rises quickly, echoes for a moment, and then falls away. It is precious, but temporary. The smile, however, is universal, flowing across the whole face like dawn across the horizon. It is not merely reaction, but disposition; not accident, but choice. Thus, he shows us the hierarchy of joy: laughter delights the ears for a moment, but the smile illuminates the soul for as long as it endures.

The ancients knew this well. In the teachings of the Buddha, it is said that a calm, serene smile is the mark of enlightenment—a reflection of a joy that is no longer chained to passing circumstance. In statues and paintings, the Buddha is not laughing but smiling, and that smile spreads across his face with quiet majesty. Likewise, in the Stoic writings of Marcus Aurelius, we hear not the celebration of riotous laughter, but the counsel to maintain an inward light that shines outward through composure and serenity. The smile becomes the embodiment of this enduring joy.

History gives us stories that reveal this truth. Consider Mother Teresa, who walked through the streets of Calcutta amid poverty and suffering. Rarely did she laugh with abandon, but always did she carry a smile—a light that spread over her whole face and gave strength to those around her. Her smile was not bound to place or circumstance; it did not require humor or prosperity. It was a reflection of a deeper joy, one born from love and service. That is why her presence comforted so many—because her smile was a universal language of peace.

We must also see that laughter, while beautiful, can divide. It is often regional, as de Chazal said—it belongs to those who share the joke, the language, the culture. What makes one group laugh may leave another bewildered or even wounded. But the smile, stretching over the whole face, belongs to no region alone. It transcends tongue and tribe. A smile is understood everywhere, a silent assurance of goodwill. It is the most human of gestures, uniting people beyond the boundaries of land and speech.

The lesson, then, is this: cherish laughter, but cultivate the smile. Let laughter come as it will, like rain in its season, refreshing and joyous. But let the smile be your constant companion, the sun that shines through you regardless of storms. Practice smiling not as a mask, but as an expression of genuine goodwill, gratitude, and serenity. In doing so, you carry within yourself a universal language, one that strengthens bonds and lifts spirits without a word.

So, children of today, remember the wisdom of de Chazal: laughter may be regional, but the smile belongs to all mankind. Do not rely only on fleeting bursts of joy, but seek the deeper well that feeds a steady radiance. Let your face carry that light, so that wherever you go, others may find in you a sign of peace, of kindness, and of unspoken fellowship. For the laughter of a moment fades—but a true smile can echo through eternity.