Why Am I This Fisherman’s Friend?

I once read a story about a fisherman who was resting under a coconut tree by the beach. His boat was parked nearby, and he had just finished his afternoon nap. A businessman, seeing him idle, walked up and asked, “Why are you wasting your time when you could go and catch more fish?”

The fisherman replied calmly, “I’ve caught enough fish to feed my family today.”

The businessman, puzzled, said, “You could catch more fish, sell them, buy a bigger boat, hire people, and eventually become rich like me.”

The fisherman smiled and asked,“Why would I want that?”

“To live peacefully,” the businessman declared. 

The fisherman laughed softly, “That’s exactly what I’m doing now.”

With Mahesh in 2024

This story is one we’ve all heard before — a gentle reminder about contentment, simplicity, and balance. But how many of us actually live by it? In a world where success is often measured by numbers in a bank account, we rarely pause to ask ourselves what “enough” truly means.

For years, I didn’t either. Until I met Mahesh.

I first met Mahesh during a trip to Diveagar, a beautiful coastal village that feels like it’s untouched by time. On that visit, I didn’t just see the beach, the waves, and the golden sunsets — I met someone who personified the fisherman from the story I had read so long ago.

Mahesh lives in a small, modest home with his wife and two children. He works as a part-time fisherman, catching just enough to support his family. No greed, no rush, no restless ambition — just a quiet, simple rhythm to life that most of us can only dream of.

During my visits, I’ve had the privilege to share meals with his family, watch his children helping him, and sit with him as the sun dips into the horizon. Mahesh never asks for anything. He doesn’t like expensive gifts or grand gestures. What makes him happiest is simply the time I spend with him when I return to his village.

Mahesh’s life hasn’t been without challenges. He suffers from a spine condition that has limited his fishing trips in recent years. Yet, his faith in the God keeps his spirits high. Every morning, despite the pain, he wakes up with gratitude and hope.

His resilience humbles me. His simplicity inspires me.

Meeting Mahesh has been like holding up a mirror to my own life — a life that, for so long, was fueled by deadlines, ambitions, and the never-ending chase for “more.” But every time I meet him, I feel lighter. The noise of my busy world fades away, and for a brief time, I get to experience what true peace feels like.

Sometimes, I think Mahesh feels the same about me. Maybe it’s the joy of friendship, or maybe it’s just that our conversations are untainted by expectations or conditions.

The truth is, we often complicate our lives searching for happiness, when, in reality, happiness is sitting quietly under a coconut tree, listening to the waves, and knowing that you already have enough.