I haven’t watched TV or read newspapers or magazines for more than a year now, with one exception — twice a month, I stop by at the roadside magazine stall opposite my house and hand over thirty rupees for a copy of Time Out Mumbai.
However, even though I have been buying the magazine for almost two years now, I only started to think of it as a necessity when I started my experiment.
The problem with being off consumption is that you can no longer buy a ‘treat’ for yourself in order to snap out of a bad mood. Being off consumption means no comfort food, no self-gifting, no temporary postponement of pain by the rush of adrenalin triggered off by that perfect purchase.
But I knew that when I went off consumption. I knew that, to resist the temptation to buy, I’ll basically need to be happy all the time. I also knew that I’ll face my first big test as soon as I hit a bad day.
Undeterred by my earlier escapade with ‘The French Touch’ festival, I returned to the Alliance Francaise auditorium on Thursday evening to watch Jean-Luc Godard’s 1960 film ‘Le Petit Soldat’ (’The Little Soldier’).
Set against the backdrop of the Algerian War, the film narrates the tragic love story of Michel Subord and Anna Karina who fall in love in spite of belonging to warring terrorist groups. The film pulsates with the same restless energy as ‘Breathless’, my favorite Godard movie, which was screened at the festival earlier on Tuesday. So, in spite of the little anti-climax at the end, when the DVD stuck and wouldn’t play, I thoroughly enjoyed the movie, or at least the part of the movie I did watch.
You’ll recall that, ever since I have gone off consumption, the number one question I have been asking myself is: what can you do on a date when you are off consumption?
Friends, readers, well-wishers: I’m delighted to tell you that, in spite of my fear that my year of abstinence may spread to more areas of my life than I had planned for, I had two perfect zero dollar dates last week.
I have a confession to make.
I have an insatiable craving for McDonald’s Paneer Salsa Wrap.
It hits me at the oddest times and places, more often than I would like to admit.
Sometimes, I’m running on Marine Drive and, suddenly, my stomach ties up into knots and all I can think of is a McDonald’s Paneer Salsa Wrap.
I have to stop, bend over, take a few deep breaths, look out over the sea towards Malabar Hills, wait for the craving to slowly subside.
If you think that I’m needlessly worried about dating and being off consumption not mixing well, let me tell you about the last time I brought up being off consumption on a first date.
It started off as a typical first date.
After I picked her up from her place, we had dinner at Salt Water Grill and watched the latest Hollywood blockbuster at INOX. It was a little after midnight, at the coffee shop of The Oberoi, that I brought up the topic of my ennui with the brands + media + retail triumvirate.
Why would a twenty-something, single, eligible, IIM-educated, upwardly mobile marketer on the corporate fast-track in India’s business capital decide to go ‘off consumption’ for a year?
Will a year off consumption (no eating out, no going out for movies or music or plays, no television or newspapers, no shopping except for necessities) leave him ill-equipped to handle life and work in Mumbai?
Or, will it leave him with invaluable insights into what drives us to consume, or not, into the nature of consumption, into human nature itself?