We often imagine happiness as something waiting for us at the end of a big achievement — a dream fulfilled, a destination reached or a long-awaited moment finally arriving. But sometimes, the moments that stay with us have very little to do with those big milestones.
Ever since I was a kid, I’ve loved singing. I was barely four years old when I first sang at a function in front of around 30 people. And by singing, I mean screaming into the mic and freely improvising the lyrics.
As I grew older, though, I became increasingly self-conscious and shy. Eventually, the shower became the only place where I sang.
Almost a decade and a half later, things began to change after I started learning the guitar. I slowly began singing outside the shower again.
Still, I often dreamed about performing in front of a crowd at a restaurant. I imagined how exciting and fulfilling it would feel.
Last year, that dream finally came true.
A good friend and I performed at a restaurant on Valentine’s Day. Our gig lasted around an hour and a half. I got to sing some of my favourite songs, and the restaurant owner was pleased with our performance.
Yet, strangely enough, that was not my favourite memory from the day. After the performance, my friend and I went to a café for some ice cream. A little girl, probably around three years old, was nearby, happily prancing around with a huge smile on her face.
As I sat there talking to my friend, listening to good music and watching the little girl’s expressions, I felt a kind of happiness I hadn’t experienced in a long time.
It made me realise something. We often overestimate the happiness that big achievements can bring and underestimate the joy hidden in ordinary moments. I have made that mistake many times.
I remember deciding years ago that I had to visit Himachal Pradesh. I was travelling solo in Rishikesh when someone at my backpacker hostel told me about his experience paragliding in Himachal. He showed me a video, and I immediately thought: this looks incredible.
A couple of years later, I was finally in Himachal, living out that dream. But the experience was not nearly as thrilling as I had imagined. It probably didn’t help that my co-pilot was drunk, but that is another story.
What I remember more fondly from that day are two much simpler moments: having lunch at a small restaurant and trying to converse with the owner in my broken Hindi, and sitting down to read the opening chapters of Paulo Coelho’s Hippie. Those moments stayed with me longer than the paragliding itself.
That is the trap many of us fall into. We keep looking for something “special” to make us happy. A better job. More money. A relationship. A holiday. A promotion. A dream finally achieved.
Until then, happiness gets postponed. Meanwhile, the things already capable of making life meaningful often go unnoticed.
A good conversation. A favourite song. A satisfying meal. A quiet evening. A shared joke. Even something as ordinary as having access to the internet.
The point is not that big dreams do not matter. They do. But happiness does not have to wait for them. A more fulfilling life may simply begin with paying attention to what is already here.
There is plenty to celebrate each day — if we choose to notice it.