In India, consumerism has woven itself into the fabric of daily life, shaping aspirations, choices, and even self-worth. Everywhere you look, there’s an advertisement whispering—or sometimes shouting—at you to buy something new, something better, something you didn’t even know you needed. Whether it’s the latest smartphone, a luxury sedan, or an exotic vacation, the message is clear: owning more is living better. But beneath the shiny veneer of retail therapy lies a grim reality—millions of people sinking into debt, unable to escape the financial quicksand that leads, for some, to tragic ends.
It begins innocuously. A young professional lands a decent job and is suddenly bombarded with credit card offers and easy loans. Banks and NBFCs eagerly hand out personal loans with minimal paperwork, buy-now-pay-later schemes make shopping effortless, and EMIs allow even the most extravagant purchases to seem affordable. The psychological game is well-designed: why pay ₹1 lakh in one go when you can stretch it out over 24 months? The fact that it all adds up, that interest rates can silently bleed you dry, is something most people fail to consider until it’s too late.
Social status plays a huge role in this equation. Weddings, once intimate affairs, are now multi-day extravaganzas with price tags that run into crores. Families who can barely afford a decent house mortgage themselves to host lavish functions, fearing societal judgment if they don’t. Festivals have become competitions of wealth display, and even something as simple as a child’s birthday party must now be an Instagram-worthy event. Every aspect of life is monetised, commercialised, and turned into an opportunity to spend money one doesn’t have.
The illusion of affordability collapses the moment an unforeseen crisis strikes. A job loss, a medical emergency, or even an economic slowdown can turn EMIs from a minor inconvenience into an unbearable burden. Missed payments lead to mounting penalties, and before long, financial institutions start their aggressive recovery tactics. The humiliation of defaulting, the incessant calls from collection agents, and the looming threat of legal action push many into a state of despair. In a country where financial literacy is low, many don’t fully understand the consequences of their borrowing decisions until they are too far gone to recover.
For some, the pressure becomes unbearable. Stories of indebted farmers taking their own lives have long been reported, but urban India now has its own silent epidemic of debt-driven suicides. Entrepreneurs crushed by business loans, salaried professionals drowning in credit card bills, students burdened with education loans they cannot repay—each of these tragedies is a testament to a system that encourages reckless spending but provides little safety net when things go wrong.
The irony is that even those who make a decent living aren’t immune. The middle class, long seen as financially prudent, is now heavily reliant on credit. Many spend their entire lives paying off home loans, car loans, and personal loans, often realising too late that their so-called assets are more liabilities than anything else. Meanwhile, the wealthy continue to thrive, benefiting from favourable tax policies, business incentives, and financial loopholes that keep them insulated from the risks the average person faces.
Consumerism thrives on the idea that happiness can be bought, but the truth is that chasing material wealth often leads to an exhausting, never-ending race. The more one buys, the more one wants, and the cycle continues indefinitely. Social media only worsens this, as curated online lives create unrealistic expectations, pushing people to spend beyond their means just to keep up appearances.
Breaking free from this trap requires a shift in mindset. Financial literacy needs to be prioritised from an early age, and people must be taught to distinguish between needs and wants. Saving should be celebrated as much as spending, and debt should be seen not as a tool for instant gratification but as a responsibility that demands careful planning. More importantly, society must stop equating wealth with success and consumption with happiness.
It’s a tough battle because the system is designed to keep people spending. But unless we begin to question the narratives we’ve been sold, millions will continue to fall for the illusion of prosperity—only to wake up in a nightmare of debt, shame, and, for some, irreversible consequences.