Sometimes its that simple
Ayaan had been pacing the same stretch of road for three days, chewing through questions that had no answers. The notebook under his arm was heavy — not because of the paper, but because of the weight of the unwritten pages. He told himself he needed the perfect idea, something grand enough to define him.
Every night, he scribbled a few lines, then tore them out. Every morning, he promised himself he’d try again. His friends told him to relax, to stop overthinking. He hated when they said that — it felt like they didn’t understand how impossible it was to create something meaningful.
That afternoon, the city was loud with horns and footsteps, yet Ayaan stopped in front of a fruit stall. An old man sat behind the counter, peeling an orange. The slices came apart so easily, clean and bright. The man popped one into his mouth and looked up at Ayaan.
“Want one?” he asked.
Ayaan hesitated, then nodded. The man handed him a slice. It burst with sweetness, sharp and fresh, cutting through the dust in his head.
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Ayaan stared at the old man. “How do you do it? You sit here all day, no big plans, no rush… and you look content.”
The man chuckled, tossing another peel aside. “Because I wanted an orange, so I peeled an orange. Sometimes it’s that simple.”
Ayaan laughed, a quiet laugh that turned into something bigger. He opened his notebook, and instead of hunting for a masterpiece, he just wrote: I wanted to write, so I wrote.
The words flowed like never before — messy, imperfect, but alive.
And for the first time in weeks, Ayaan realized the old man was right.
Sometimes, it really is that simple!.
