Be a master of your own happiness—that thought never occurred to Aarav until life forced him to reflect.
Aarav sat alone in the corner of the college canteen, stirring his coffee absentmindedly. His friends were at the other table, laughing and chatting without him. They hadn’t exactly excluded him, but Aarav felt invisible, especially after what had happened the night before at Neha’s birthday party.
He had tried to fit in, cracking jokes and following the group, but things took a turn when he accidentally spilled a drink on Neha. Everyone laughed, and Aarav felt like a fool. He tried to brush it off, but the humiliation lingered. His friends didn’t even check if he was okay—they just moved on, leaving him behind.
“Why do I even bother?” Aarav muttered to himself, staring at his phone, waiting for a message from his friends that never came.
For months, Aarav had been trying to keep up with the group—wearing what they wore, talking the way they did, even pretending to care about things he didn’t connect with, just to feel like he belonged. But nothing seemed to work. He was still the outsider in their tightly-knit circle, always on the edge, never truly accepted.
Later that day, Aarav bumped into Manish, an old friend from high school. They hadn’t spoken in a while, but Manish greeted him with a warm smile. “Hey, Aarav! Long time no see. How’ve you been?”
“Same old,” Aarav replied, forcing a shrug.
Noticing Aarav’s gloomy tone, Manish invited him to join a hiking group. “We go every weekend. It’s a small group, but we have a great time exploring trails near the city. You should come!”
At first, Aarav hesitated. Hiking wasn’t something his current circle would find cool. But maybe that’s what he needed—something different, something real. He agreed, hoping for a breath of fresh air—literally and metaphorically.
That weekend, Aarav found himself on a hilltop just outside the city, surrounded by quiet trails, chirping birds, and a handful of strangers who welcomed him without judgment. The fresh air and wide-open skies did something to him. It cleared the fog that had clouded his thoughts for months.
Manish and the others didn’t care about social status or curated Instagram stories. No one was trying to impress anyone. They were present, laughing at silly things, enjoying the scenery, and being their true selves. Aarav felt no pressure to perform, to match expectations. For the first time in a long while, he felt free.
“Look at that view!” Manish called out, pointing to a breathtaking panorama of hills and valleys. Aarav felt a genuine smile forming. That feeling of lightness, of finally exhaling after holding your breath too long—it was priceless.
As the sun began to set, painting the sky in orange and pink hues, Aarav stood at the edge of a cliff, staring into the horizon. In that moment of stillness, a realization struck him. Be a master of your own story, he thought. Don’t hand over the pen to others.
Over the next few weeks, Aarav began to focus more on things that truly mattered to him. He joined a music club on campus and picked up his guitar again, rediscovering his love for creating melodies. He studied harder, not to impress, but to secure his future. Slowly, he began to build a version of himself that didn’t depend on validation.
One afternoon, he passed by his old group in the canteen. They were still laughing, still glued to their routines. They barely noticed him. This time, Aarav didn’t shrink away. He didn’t feel the familiar sting. He simply walked past, content.
That evening, after another energizing hike, Aarav returned home and strummed his guitar, crafting a tune that told his story—of growth, strength, and renewal. The chords spoke louder than words.
He had finally understood the truth: happiness doesn’t come from fitting in, but from standing tall in your own skin. To be a master of your own joy, you must first stop chasing someone else’s.
Now, Aarav lives by one rule: Be a master of what you allow to define you. And that made all the difference.