The Paradox of Choice; Are too many choices making us unhappy

 

The Paradox of Choice; Are too many choices making us unhappy

Sowmya, a ten-year-old girl with curious eyes and a pocket full of saved coins, had been counting down the days to this moment. For weeks, she had skipped buying chocolates after school, ignored the lure of colourful hair clips at the market, and tucked away every spare rupee. All for one reason, ice cream.

Not just any ice cream, but a treat from the most famous shop in town, a place everyone spoke of with a twinkle in their eyes. They called it magical. People said stepping inside felt like stepping into a fairy tale.

When she finally pushed open the pastel-blue door, the air inside was sweet and cool, carrying scents of vanilla, caramel, berries, and chocolate so thick she could almost taste them. The shop glowed with warm light, and behind the counter stretched a rainbow of frozen dreams.

She had imagined this scene many times—walking in, spotting her favourite flavour instantly, and ordering without a second thought. But her imagination had missed one detail.

One flavour? No. Forty-three.

Her eyes darted from tub to tub, reading names like Cookies & Cream, Mint Chocolate Chip, Caramel Black Forest, Strawberry Silk, Pistachio Rose, Dark Chocolate Truffle. Each looked better than the last.

Her excitement began to blur into uncertainty.

What if cookies and cream were better than mint chocolate chip? What if caramel black forest was tastier than strawberry silk? What if the best one was something she’d never even considered?

The shop owner, a kindly man in a paper hat, leaned forward with a smile.
“So, little one, which one will it be?”

Sowmya hesitated, her fingers tightening around her coins. Finally, she pointed at the safest choice she knew.
“Vanilla, please.”

Within moments, a perfect scoop sat in a cup, drizzled with chocolate syrup and dusted with colourful sprinkles. She took a seat by the window, spoon in hand. The first bite was sweet and creamy, delicious, really, but her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

What if vanilla wasn’t the best one?

Just then, an old man with kind wrinkles and wise eyes sat down beside her.

“What happened, beta? Why so quiet?”

Sowmya explained her problem—how there were so many choices, how she was afraid she hadn’t picked the very best. The old man listened without interrupting, nodding slowly.

“Too many choices can do that,” he said gently. “Tell me, how would this same ice cream taste if you bought it on a hot summer afternoon from a street vendor outside your home who has only vanilla flavour?”

Sowmya’s eyes lit up. “It would taste amazing! I’d enjoy every bite.”

“Exactly,” the man smiled. “Sometimes, we think having more options will make us happier. But the thought, what if the other was better? steals our peace. When we have fewer options, we focus on enjoying what we have, instead of regretting what we didn’t choose.”

Sowmya tilted her head. “But there will always be many options in life.”

“Yes,” the man agreed. “And you may never know if you picked the absolute best. The trick is to embrace the choice you made and give it your full attention. Just like this ice cream, savour it, slowly, and let it make you happy. Forget the other forty-two.”

This time, Sowmya took a long, slow bite. The vanilla melted on her tongue, rich and sweet. The noise of “what if” in her mind softened, replaced by something calmer, a quiet joy in the moment she had.