The Clouds Were Always There

I was traveling in my car the other day, some soft music humming in the background, when my eyes wandered upward. The sky looked vast and quiet, with only a few lonely clouds drifting slowly across it. And suddenly, a forgotten memory from my childhood came flooding back.

When I was a kid, looking at the sky used to be a daily ritual. I would lie on the terrace or peek out from my school van, eyes fixed on the clouds, trying to spot shapes—sometimes a bunny, sometimes an ice cream cone, maybe even a panda. Each day, the sky offered something new. It was like a silent companion to my imagination. But today, it felt emptier. Were there really fewer clouds now… or had I just stopped looking?

That thought hit me deeper than I expected.

Maybe the clouds were never gone. Maybe I just stopped noticing them.

Growing up has this strange way of blinding us. Somewhere between responsibilities, deadlines, bills, and expectations, we stop looking at the little things that once filled our hearts with joy. Not because they're no longer there—but because we forget to seek them.

As children, happiness was everywhere. A 5-rupee pencil could light up our world. A one-rupee chocolate felt like treasure. A puddle on the road meant a splashy adventure. A crayon box won in a school competition made us feel like champions. The horn of a local bus, a cousin’s motorbike ride, stolen mangoes from the neighborhood tree, or the half-day leave on a rainy day—these weren't just moments; they were magic.

Do you remember the joy of street firecrackers during festivals? The excitement of picking a roadside Diwali dress? Or the comfort of hot porota your father brought from the stall after work? All these tiny fragments stitched together a childhood full of wonder.

But adulthood, in its rush to make us "mature," has made us numb to the beauty we once found in the ordinary.

We often say life isn’t as happy anymore. We blame fate, time, even God, for stealing our joy. But the truth is—joy was never stolen. We just stopped searching for it in the small corners of life.

The clouds are still there. So are the stars. So is the smell of earth after rain, and the warmth of a simple roadside tea. So is the child within you—only quieter now.

Next time you travel, take the window seat. Watch the sky. Look for shapes in the clouds. Buy yourself a chocolate—not for the taste, but for the smile it brings. Say hi to the aunty next door. Walk barefoot on the grass. Laugh without a reason. Cry when you need to. Hug tightly. Dance clumsily. Watch a sunset without checking the time.

Happiness was never in big things. It was always in the little ones we stopped noticing.

So today, choose to live differently. Not bigger, but deeper. Not faster, but fuller.

Because the clouds were always there…
You just forgot to look up.