I’m writing this article on November 26, 2025, with a pen in hand, paper on my desk, and a picture of my family in front of me. The photo includes my late grandfather, a man I lost a year ago today. He was hardworking, caring, and a good man — he is a top contender on my personal “Greatest Humans Ever” list, even though I barely spent a few days with him in total.

He lived in a village, while we lived in the city, and our visits were few and far between. Three or four meetings, two or three days at a time. Yet in those brief encounters, I got to know a man whose life was a blend of resilience, toil, and quiet joys.

The more I reflect on his life, the more I feel he deserves to be happier. I’ve reached a rather controversial conclusion — an ape living a million years ago might have been happier than my dear old grandpa. Interestingly, many experts in this field share a similar view, suggesting that our ape ancestors, despite their primitive lifestyles, may have been happier than we are today.

Grandpa’s Stories: A Window to the Past

As a curious kid (the kind who could irritate a saint with relentless “whys”), I bombarded my grandfather with questions. Surprisingly, he didn’t seem annoyed. On the contrary, he appeared delighted to have someone willing to listen to his stories. His loneliness was palpable — despite six children and a lot of grandchildren, no one had time to sit and talk with him.

He told me about his youth, a time when his days began at first light and ended long after sunset. He worked tirelessly on his farm, occasionally taking up work as a laborer on others’ fields. His rare moments of joy came from sitting under a tree, chatting with friends, and smoking. Despite all his hard work, he lived in poverty, often taking on debts that ate away his land bit by bit.

It was a relentless grind, devoid of luxury and full of worries — worries about the rain, the crops, the debts, and whether his family would have enough to eat. The more I learned about his life, the more I couldn’t help but compare it to the life of an ape living a million years ago. (Yes, an ape!)

A Day in the Life of an Ape

Picture this: a small band of early humans wandering through the jungle, dodging predators, plucking fruits, and occasionally hunting with crude stone tools. No fire, no wheel, no cozy homes — just raw survival. On the surface, it sounds like a nightmare. But here’s the kicker: they worked only a few hours a day to secure food. The rest of the time? Free as a bird.

They weren’t worried about their children’s tuition fees or whether their cave neighbor had a shinier rock collection. When they slept, it wasn’t with the weight of debts or existential crises. They had no idea what tomorrow held, and that ignorance was bliss.

In contrast, my grandfather, with all his “modern” advantages, had little time for joy. He toiled for 12+ hours a day, not just to survive but also to meet the expectations of society. A poor peasant like him often went to bed consumed by the worry that his crops might fail — a nightmare that often turned into a harsh reality, forcing them to beg local landlords for help and enter a vicious cycle of loans and land loss.

The landlords, by the way, were the Warren Buffets of their time, except instead of tech stocks, they invested in poor farmers like my grandfather — doubling their wealth by charging outrageous interest rates. My grandfather once told me that a $100 loan would balloon into $200 in a couple of years. When he couldn’t pay, the landlords happily took his land, which was worth far more than the original debt.

Meanwhile, the apes of yore owned nothing but their time, which they spent climbing trees, bathing in rivers, and dodging the occasional saber-toothed predator. They had no landlords, no debts, and no existential dread about whether they’d ever visit Dubai or drive a Ferrari.

Are We Happy?

Reflecting on this, I can’t help but wonder: am I happier than my grandfather? Forget apes — what about my dog? I like writing, but most of my day is spent hunched over a computer, editing drafts, and researching — tasks I don’t enjoy. And then there are my friends, many of whom slog through 9-to-5 jobs they hate for paychecks that barely cover their bills.

At least my grandfather lived among people as poor as he was, which probably softened the sting of his struggles. Today, I scroll through Instagram and feel inadequate because I’m not as rich as some millionaire influencer halfway across the globe. My dog, on the other hand, wags his tail, eats his kibble, and naps without a care in the world.

Did Early Humans Have the Key to Happiness?

A million years ago, early humans weren’t stressing over tomorrow — they were too busy living today. My grandfather, for all his hardships, didn’t worry about Ferraris or five-star vacations, but he did worry about feeding his family. And me? I have enough savings to survive six months without work, yet I still lose sleep over my future.

Maybe happiness lies in simplicity. Maybe it’s in not comparing yourself to others. Maybe it’s in living in the moment, like that ape who never worried about his retirement plan or his Instagram following.

So here’s my takeaway: modern life, for all its conveniences, often robs us of the mental peace our ancestors (and even our pets) seemed to naturally enjoy. My grandfather deserved more joy in his life. And perhaps, so do we all.

Note: This story was first published on my Medium account.