1. The train, the phone, the empty shelf
Sanyam (संयम) is an ordinary young man in Mumbai, office bag on shoulder, phone in hand, mind buzzing with notifications. One evening in the crowded train, his feed offers him everything: new sneakers, a trending t-shirt, “only today” discount banners. His thumb hovers over Buy.
Through the window, he notices a small shrine on the platform. A pujari is sweeping the floor—slowly, rhythmically—as if nothing in the world is more urgent than that quiet act. Sanyam looks at his screen, then at the broom, then at his own restless chest.
That night, he opens his cupboard: too many shirts, too many things, too little air. He clears one shelf. Leaves it empty. And for the first time in months, he feels space inside.
2. Why we keep wanting more
This wanting is not just personal weakness. It is a design. India has over 806 million internet users and almost half a billion social media accounts. We are the largest audience on Instagram—about 414 million people scrolling the same endless reel. And we spend hours here: YouTube alone takes more than an hour a day from Indian adults.
Where the eyes go, money goes. Nearly half of India’s advertising money now flows into digital platforms. And the new salesmen are not strangers on hoardings but familiar faces: influencers. That industry already crossed ₹3,600 crore and grows by 25% each year.
Psychologists warn us: this screen-life pushes us toward comparison, FOMO, and materialism. A study of young people on Instagram found higher levels of compulsive buying directly tied to hours online. We are not only watching; we are being shaped.
3. Capitalism and the soft heart
Capitalism itself is not evil—it builds, it creates, it feeds. But the modern machine has one rule: grow or die. And growth means expanding desire. Algorithms learn our secret hungers. They whisper: you are not enough, but this item will make you whole.
Credit cards and EMIs smooth the road, letting us rent tomorrow’s salary for today’s craving. In 2025, over 40% of India’s GDP-equivalent household debt was already on our shoulders, and half of that was not for homes or farms, but for consumption—small loans, cards, lifestyle.
Sanyam feels this pressure. Each reel is a mirror where he looks less than perfect. Each EMI is a thread pulling him tighter. He is not alone. He is simply living inside a system that sells absence first, then offers products as presence.
4. The wisdom we almost forgot
This is not the first time human beings have faced desire. India’s oldest books spoke of it again and again.
- Katha Upanishad: Young Nachiketa stands before Death. Death offers riches, pleasures—the path of Preya (the pleasant). Nachiketa chooses Shreya (the good). The wise choose the good; the unwise chase the pleasant.
- Isha Upanishad:
“Tena tyaktena bhunjitha” — by renouncing, enjoy.
Not by grabbing, but by holding lightly. - Bhagavad Gita: The sage is like an ocean—rivers of desire flow in, yet the ocean stays full, unmoved.
- Patanjali’s Yoga Sutra: Practice Aparigraha—non-grasping. When we stop holding too much, the meaning of life comes into view.
Minimalism today is just this old wisdom, spoken in new streets.
6. The shelf stays empty
Weeks pass. The shelf stays empty. It is his reminder that space is also wealth. He has not given up living. He has begun living with clarity.
Perhaps that is what India’s seers meant long ago: joy is not in owning more, but in being free enough to enjoy what you already hold. Minimalism is not poverty. It is not lack. It is choosing Shreya over Preya. It is Sanyam—restraint, yes, but also fullness.
Closing thought
In a world where everything shouts for attention, the richest thing we may own is silence. In a time when credit cards offer easy joy, the greatest luxury may be patience. In a country that already wrote these truths in Sanskrit millennia ago, maybe it is time to remember them again.
Image source: the cover image above.
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