Why is it that being simple is not so simple?

I’ve been thinking about something lately, something that feels small, almost invisible, yet strangely heavy. Why is it that being simple is not so simple? I was reading The Loneliness of Sonia and Sunny by Kiran Desai, and a quiet exchange between the characters stayed with me. It wasn’t dramatic or philosophical in an obvious

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Can you really know someone perfectly?

One day, sitting across the dining table that you shared with someone for 20 years, eating the same pancakes that you make every sunday, you start wondering, “do I really know this person?” The thought comes to your mind because last night your partner came late and directly went to sleep without discussing how the

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