Unveiling Life’s Futility
When living feels expensive and the pressures of capitalism erode all personal fulfilment, in a world that only recognizes money and power, I feel like a small voice. Sometimes I wonder, is it all worth it?
On my way home from work, I often find myself doom-scrolling on Instagram. While doing so, I see the same question being answered in various reels: What do you think has become so expensive that it’s just not worth it anymore? The answer, no matter the gender, race, or nationality, remains the same: life.
Money speaks, we are silent
As a child, I never imagined that my thirties would involve a perpetual tug-of-war between expenses and everyday life. Rather than a peaceful journey, life would be a wallet-draining rollercoaster. But this is not a new phenomenon, is it?
If one revisits the birth of modern capitalism, one would realise that ‘progress’ has always come with a cost. Think of a handloom weaver who saw their livelihood erode with the onset of power looms. The weaver could make just enough money to feed their family, but now they were waging a war against a Goliath who would not be defeated. Can you imagine the fear and despair? The expansion of generative AI and chatbots casts the same fear in Hollywood writers or even customer service agents. We all fear losing our livelihood and the ability to earn money.
Every day, the struggle seems tethered to the very essence of money. We may protest against capitalism, but the truth is that money is the silent orchestrator, dictating our choices and opportunities. Being against the tenets of capitalism doesn’t exempt one from its grip. It is money that decides whether we sleep on a hard surface or a memory mattress, the food we eat, or our sources of leisure. It also decides whether the people of our country are worth saving and fighting for when a wealthier and more powerful nation decides to commit genocide against us.
Dishearteningly, we grapple with the realisation that if we wish to have even a semblance of control over our lives, we need to strive for money. So, we work, grind, and, on some days, cry ourselves to sleep thinking of our jobs. We do this knowing that all this just costs a few thousand bucks — that’s the worth of our lives.
I cannot even fathom how the generations before us managed to own houses when I can barely afford to fall sick. When I ask my friends and colleagues what motivates them to work day and night, I receive similar responses. Some say so that they can earn enough and spend on what truly brings them joy. For some, the sheer responsibilities on their shoulders would make them do anything for money. Some others say that this is the one life that they have, and they want to make the most of it.
Is a well-lived life a myth?
It makes me wonder who came up with the definition of how life should be lived. Just imagine: the finest brains that walked this earth are sitting around a roundtable. They decide the societal constructs and parameters that define what constitutes a life well lived. The image is not as absurd as human beings considering themselves superior to animals. We claim superiority when we are the ones who made the choices to make living impossible and who designed our own destruction.
One question echoes in my mind repeatedly: What is the point of this perpetual chase that leads to nothingness? Is this the hallmark of a life well lived? Accumulating wealth, earning societal validation, or climbing the mythical ladders at work? LinkedIn influencers may believe so, but I struggle to make peace with this paradox where this daily grind only leads me further away from a chance of knowing an alternative.
Capitalism tightens its noose
When you start challenging the authenticity of this never-ending rat race, the question comes up: Who is it all for? I have an answer that some might not like. It would not be an exaggeration to say that capitalism’s fingerprints seem to be everywhere, guiding the script of our lives and determining who holds the pen to write our stories. The writers in this case are the big corporate bosses, billionaires, and tech giants.
People like Elon Musk (CEO of Tesla Motors and ‘X’), or in recent times, Indian businessmen such as Narayana Murthy (former CEO of Infosys), CP Gurnani (CEO of Tech Mahindra), and Kunal Shah (founder of CRED), claim that working long hours is the secret of greatness. Their rhetoric uses patriotism to mask the stark reality of labour exploitation that lurks beneath these claims.
Murthy derided the youth’s inclination towards the West and said that this does not help the country. According to him, the youth must instead pledge 70 hours a week because this is, after all, their country. Gurnani justified it by adding that the youth must burn the midnight oil and dedicate 10,000 hours to make themselves and their country better. Adding to the fire of pseudo-patriotism, Shah said that as a country, India has a long way to go and so must follow the Chinese method of 996 culture. This stands for 9 a.m. to 9 p.m., six days a week. According to him, we cannot dream of becoming a 10–20 trillion dollar economy and expect work-life balance.
The overarching message is clear: work tirelessly, sacrifice personal harmony, and devote oneself to the grandeur of nation-building. It’s a portrayal that glorifies ceaseless hustle as the sole path to greatness.
Yet, within this narrative of rags to riches and hard work paving the way for success is another hidden and often overlooked narrative. There’s a conspicuous absence of discussions regarding the inherent inequalities in our world. There is no mention of the differential access to resources, opportunities, or the safety net that cushions the fall for the few who rise to the top.
The spectrum of ambition
When we dig further, we uncover another hidden layer that defines ambition and what constitutes a life well lived for everyone. Living with kindness, honesty, and empathy is not enough or even the top criteria.
The prevailing voices of corporate magnates, tech icons, and LinkedIn influencers keep drumming the beat of greatness and unyielding ambition. But behind this noise is a simple truth: not everyone aspires to scale the lofty heights of billionaire status. Everyone does not want to leave a huge mark, start big companies, win awards, or become famous. Our quiet aspirations diverge far from this narrative. We are content with what we have, happy to be with our loved ones, pursue our interests, and silently fade away when the time comes.
However, just because our aspirations are nestled in these humble corners, it does not imply any deficiency in our worth or abilities. It doesn’t make our lives any less valuable or meaningful. The spectrum of ambition varies, but that difference shouldn’t serve as grounds for judgement or criticism. We must stop force-feeding an unyielding pursuit of ambition as the sole recipe for a fulfilling life.
Living the dilemma
Tragically, these ideas are considered too idyllic and impossible in today’s world. The reality is that there is no room for these questions in a world built on materialism and embroiled in a war whose survivors will be those with power and influence. Here, I find my own individuality and creative spirit slowly fading amidst the demands of this competitive race.
Reluctantly, I participate in a system where thinkers and dreamers, like myself, seem undervalued compared to the prevailing adulation for data, finance, coding, or technology-oriented professions. Some days, I manage to turn a blind eye and remain unaffected, but on others, the contemplation of relinquishing it all looms heavy. It’s a constant struggle, balancing the yearning for personal fulfilment against the pressures of conformity. I end up questioning the very essence of the life I am leading, and most of the time, it does not seem worth living.
