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 way—just a few lines, almost casual—probably something that a normal reader wouldn’t even bother pondering upon:

Sunny says, “I’m happy when I’m with you.”
Sonia replies, “I’m happy with you.”
Sunny says, “Let’s stick together to stay happy.”
And Sonia responds, “Let’s stay simple to be happy.”

That last line stayed with me.

Let’s stay simple to be happy.

I paused reading and had a sudden urge to write this post, to pen down thoughts that felt like they were bursting out in all directions.

Like with every emotion, my first instinct was to go back to childhood and compare. Did I feel this when I was just a kid? I tried to understand what it really meant to feel simple. Was life simple back then, or did it only feel that way in hindsight?

As I turned over memories from childhood, they all felt innocent and sweet. And I can say this with some certainty, life was simple. Life was easy.

It sounds so easy. Almost naïve. But the more I sit with it, the more it feels like a quiet truth I’ve outgrown, or perhaps outcomplicated.

Because simplicity, as adults, isn’t just about having less or wanting less. It’s about unlearning. It’s about peeling away layers I didn’t even realize I was accumulating, expectations, comparisons, fears, the constant need to prove, to achieve, to be seen in a certain way.

As children, we didn’t negotiate happiness. We didn’t optimize it, measure it, or question whether we deserved it. We just feel happy, happy to be in the moment without worrying much about what might come tomorrow. 

Now, happiness often comes with conditions:

“I’ll be happy when…”
“I’ll feel settled once…”
“I’ll relax after…”

And somewhere in that constant deferral, simplicity slips away.

Maybe being simple isn’t about going back to who we were because that’s not possible. I’ve seen too much, learned too much, felt too deeply to return unchanged. But perhaps simplicity, now, is about choosing clarity over noise. Choosing honesty over performance. Choosing presence over perfection.

And maybe that’s why it feels difficult because let’s be honest – who speaks the truth these days? Who chooses to live away from chaos, in fact there are people who thrive in chaos and stress.

Being simple demands quite a lot. It asks us to stop hiding behind complexity, the busy schedules, the overthinking, the endless distractions and instead sit with what truly matters. It asks us to be direct in a world that rewards subtlety, to be content in a culture that thrives on dissatisfaction.

It asks us to say things like, “I’m happy with you,” and mean it without overanalyzing. Just say it. No need to think: Why am I happy? What happens when I’m not with you? and so on.

So no, it’s not easy. It’s just not easy to be simple.

Maybe simplicity isn’t something we lose as we grow up.

Maybe it’s something we have to choose: again and again.