The Many Purposes of Materialism

This is possibly the earliest in the day that I have gotten around to writing a piece. It’s 10 am. I can feel the silent judgment of the hyperproductive ‘5 am Club’ members looking down at me disapprovingly. It’s the Holi weekend and as customary I am in Agra. With ‘Karma Police’ playing in my ears, I place myself in my father’s office wondering what the next sentence should be when ‘Bunny’ strolls in. Our German Shepherd grunts, the old lady that she is, as she places herself next to my feet. In about two weeks, I’ll be able to boast on LinkedIn of having nine years of work experience. Approximately the same amount of time that Bunny has been in our lives. It was fortuitous that almost as soon as I started working with Mars Petcare, Bunny landed on our doorstep looking for a home.

While I go on a nostalgic trip down memory lane without sharing its live feed with you, I am left with a sense of happiness and gratitude. Reminds me of the time a few months ago when I ended up making a list of people and things, I felt grateful for. While yes, many travel and life experiences have brought me joy, I have gradually realised that materialism probably gives me a bigger dopamine rush. On further probing, maybe it’s not the shiny object but what it does and the purpose it serves that makes me happy. You see, some swanky objects are a gift that keeps on giving.

It’s not a secret that music plays a very important role in my life. I find it difficult to perform the mundane tasks of the day without having something playing in the background. Very much like the continuous Fridge Buzz, Thom Yorke is referring to in the song. I remember moving into my new house in Gurgaon and as it goes with relocation, one takes time to get accustomed to their new abode. It was only after two weeks that I was able to install my TV and sound system. Playing “Coming Back to Life” on the system, a minute later I walked to the kitchen to get some water. As I would hear Nick Mason’s drums come alive and fill the house with bass, an involuntary smile appeared on my face. The empty house had suddenly turned into my home.

For the longest time, the only piece of furniture at home, except a bed and a shoe rack, was my lounger from Bombay. That limitation severely prohibited my ability to host a party at home. Guest’s footwear could be accommodated but not their posterior. After stalling the decision for a while, I was pushed into action when my family announced their desire to visit and have a puja at home. Not looking to disappoint the most important people in my life, I hurriedly put together a sofa set and a dining table. Not willing to compromise on my taste, I did pay a slight premium for expedited services. Ohh capitalism! How fairly do you make the slow pay for their procrastination?

My boss was recently sharing his learnings from an immersive program he attended. One question that was asked to him that he asked us as well was “What is your life’s purpose?”. If I have you pondering then, my friend, welcome to the club! Later in the evening, I recounted the question to a friend with whom I had a similar conversation a week earlier. While she was clear about her purpose, I asked her what she thought mine was. After a bit of deliberation, she opined that my purpose in life is to make my loved ones have a fun time and let their guard down. The fact that I love to host parties at my house is clear evidence. For a minute there, I lost myself. Now, my imposter syndrome will not let me accept that easily. While my larger purpose in life might still be under examination, what I do know is that writing gives me happiness and that is perhaps the most layered purpose of this piece.