I met a stranger an absolute stranger on an ordinary afternoon. I was walking down the street when I accidentally dropped my notes. Papers scattered across the pavement like leaves in the wind. As I knelt to gather them, he appeared a man in his late thirties, well-dressed but casual, with a calm presence. Without a word, he crouched beside me and helped pick up the papers.
"Thanks," I muttered, stuffing the crumpled pages back into my folder.
"No problem," he replied with a smile. Then, after a brief pause, he asked, "Are you happy?"
I froze. It wasn’t the kind of question you expect from a stranger or from anyone, really. No one had asked me that in months, maybe even years. People usually asked, "When are you getting a job?" or "Are you preparing for your future?" No one ever cared to ask if I was happy.
I shrugged. "I don’t know... I guess I haven’t thought about it."
He nodded thoughtfully. "That’s fair. But... do you see life as beautiful?"
That question hit differently. I hesitated before answering. "I’m not sure. Never really thought about it. But... maybe life could be beautiful if there wasn’t so much... society."
He chuckled softly. "Sounds like you’re going through an existential crisis."
I smiled weakly. Maybe I was.
Before I could say more, he glanced at his watch. "I need to get going," he said. Then he paused, as if weighing his words. "One last thing... there’s no point in getting anything in this human world. So just... remain calm and happy."
And with that, he walked away.
I stood there for a long time, my thoughts tangled like a web. His words lingered, gnawing at my mind. "There’s no point in getting anything... so just remain calm and happy."
How? I wondered. How can I be happy while living among these people?
I tried to think of what made me feel calm. The only answer I found was sleep. Long, dreamless sleep 12 to 15 hours at a stretch. When I slept, I didn’t have to think, didn’t have to deal with questions about my life, my future, or my worth.
But the more I slept, the worse it got. Waking up felt like being dragged back into a world that seemed designed to exhaust me. Conversations were tiring; people felt like noise. Even stepping outside felt like a risk a chance that someone might ask something I wasn’t ready to answer.
Yet somehow, that stranger’s words wouldn’t leave me. "Just remain calm and happy."
At first, I resented him. What kind of advice was that? He made happiness sound so... easy. But over time, I realized what he meant. Happiness wasn’t about running away from the world or drowning it in sleep it was about finding peace despite the noise.
So I started small. I cleaned my room just a little. I stepped outside not far, just to the corner store. I smiled at a stranger not because I had to, but because I wanted to.
And slowly, I felt... lighter. The world didn’t seem less chaotic, but somehow, I wasn’t fighting it anymore. I wasn’t happy all the time, but I was calm. And sometimes, in those calm moments, happiness would quietly slip in not loud, not overwhelming just enough to remind me that life, even in its messiness, could still be beautiful.
The stranger was right. There’s no point in chasing after things that don’t last but finding calm within the storm? That’s what made me feel alive again.
