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I prefer peace over temporary happiness.


Ramesh was born and raised in a small town near Thanjavur, where life moved slowly, and people still asked, “Saptiya?” before anything else.

In his twenties, Ramesh was like most young men. Full of dreams, he moved to Chennai with big hopes and even bigger distractions. The city had everything — loud laughter, endless lights, late-night bike rides on ECR, Marina sunsets, tea at midnight, unexpected love, and instant happiness.

And he loved it… at first.

The Thrill of Temporary Happiness

There were days when Ramesh felt on top of the world. He’d hang out with friends in Besant Nagar, go on impulsive road trips to Yelagiri, fall for a girl who barely knew what she wanted, and laugh till his stomach hurt at tea kadais in Vadapalani.

These moments were golden — until they weren't.

Because every high came with a low. Every happy night ended with overthinking. Every new love ended in confusion. Every loud laugh was followed by silence.

He started realizing that he was constantly chasing something — temporary happiness — only to end up tired, empty, and craving rest.

A Return to Simplicity

One weekend, exhausted from work and chaos, Ramesh took a train back home to Thanjavur. As he sat on the verandah with a tumbler of filter coffee in his hand, watching his amma draw kolam while the temple bells rang in the background, something hit him:

Peace didn’t feel like a party. It felt like this.

No rush.
No pretence.
No waiting for the next message or the next plan. Just presence.

He looked at the banana trees swaying in the backyard, the smell of agarbatti from the puja room, and realized — this was peace. And it wasn’t boring. It was healing.

The Quiet Decision

Ramesh didn’t give up on happiness. He just stopped chasing the loud, temporary kind. He moved to a quieter neighborhood in Chennai. He started waking up early, doing yoga at Marina, reading under trees in Anna Library, and meeting people who didn’t bring drama but brought calm.

He stopped texting people who replied only when they felt like it.
He stopped saying yes to plans that drained him.
He started choosing people, places, and patterns that gave him peace over a buzz.

A Tamil Soul's Realization

Life in Tamil Nadu is full of color, sound, and emotion. But there’s also a quiet beauty in a train journey through green paddy fields, in listening to Ilaiyaraaja songs on a rainy evening, in a simple meal of sambar sadam and appalam, in knowing you don’t need a hundred people to feel enough.

Ramesh realized something most of us do — a little late:
Temporary happiness excites you.
But peace — peace keeps you.

And since then, every time someone asks him if he misses the thrill, he smiles and replies,
“I still love the thrill… but now I don’t lose myself chasing it.”