Trying the austerity cap for size

Let’s face it. These are grim times. The monthly grocery shopping budget is expanding, helium like, into infinity much like our universe, resulting in one landing at the supermarket at the start of the month with X amount in one’s head for one’s fixed list of groceries and then fainting at the check out counter when one realises that the same amount of groceries as one had procured the previous month, discounts and special offers not withstanding, is now X into 2 and therefore, shifts your entire monthly household budget onto shaky ground resulting in you cutting down some parlour appointments and figuring out how to be a DIY beauty, never mind if that inflicts visual horror onto the unsuspecting world.
This coping with inflation is a serious burden on my limited brain cells, given that I have a few in functional order left. The start of every month has me coping with maid and cook who seem to want raises in alternate order. The dhobi’s bill has me looking guiltily at the iron gathering dust in the distant corner of the cupboard. Eating out has almost disappeared from our lives and takeaway has become a mainstay of our social life, given that planning to go out is actually more taxing than actually going out and then there’s the little matter of petrol. Given that, as I type this, petrol has just a few days ago been hiked to levels more obscene than it was previously, I’m rediscovering my legs if the destination is a short walk away. Thankfully, some years ago, we did ourselves the greatest favour ever by moving home, office and school into the same suburb, a short walk away from each other in a pinch of a city shut down, having been through umpteen of them through the monsoons and bomb blasts and such like in the past. That also does nice things to our petrol consumption, namely keep it low. We also have become cave people of sorts. We never go out. It helps that we live with many televisions and a complex that has pool and clubhouse to keep us entertained enough every single day, and the child doesn’t whine our heads off to go to the mall playzone every weekend to get his fix of entertainment. Speaking of which, the movies have been cut down too. Morning shows are de rigeur. We do not watch evening shows any more. I cannot bring myself to shell out anything over Rs 300 for a single ticket when it is less than half of that for the morning show. And yes, there is the sandwich, popcorn, KFC that follows that more than dents the wallet substantially but I am indulgent parent and don’t mind that given I have saved on the tickets in the first place. I am, I think, two price hikes away from recycling milk packets and doing a Scarlett O’Hara with the velvet curtains. Eh, we don’t wear velvet these days. Ah well, the curtains are safe then. But you get my drift.
Stuff one needs in the house, like milk, oil, grains, veggies, etc are skyrocketing by the day. There’s no cutting down on those, there’s only shopping in a way that one grabs them on offer, compares prices and buys stuff strictly off the list, without getting suckered into ‘just trying out’ a new something in the market. One is also clear about not picking up something without checking the price on the label rather than getting a shock and collapsing at the cash counter when the packet of little wasabi nuts you picked up from the Japanese imports section turns out to be half your entire grocery bill. Yes, I exaggerate, but you get my drift.
The lights are being switched off if the room is empty. The geyser being avoided given that this is the peak of summer and we can all do with some cold showers. Shopping for clothes and accessories is limited to Only When On Sale, to assuage the guilt pangs that hit when one goes overboard. The credit cards have been chopped up, only the debit cards stay put in the wallet. Minimal cash stays in the wallet to prevent one from the temptation to spend when out and about.
Somewhere, this does remind me of my pre-liberalisation childhood, where only the essentials were got in, where there was enough to live by, and never excess. Where one prioritised expenses and waited for things and savoured their purchase because one had waited for so long for them. Where one treasured one’s toys because they were earned through good behaviour or achievement, where they came by so few and far between that they were handled carefully and lasted forever. I see that happening with my son now. He thinks about the toys he wants. He behaves well in order to earn them. He values them, and takes care of them, a far cry from the days when he had more toys than he could count and broke every single one the moment they came home from the store. Or maybe, he’s older now. And more responsible.
What about you? Are you cutting down, pulling the purse strings tighter, cutting out the non essentials from your life?

About these ads