by Mursaleen Bashir
Today, property ownership in cities is beyond the reach of many young professionals, even those with good education and stable employment. This reality is often overlooked in generational comparisons.
In every era, each generation sees itself through the lens of its surroundings. Today’s younger generation often believes they are living more prosperous, comfortable, and advanced lives than their grandparents or great-grandparents did. Frequent changes of clothes, the ownership of smartphones, access to global trends, dining out, ordering online, and travelling are all taken as signs of prosperity.
Yet beneath the surface of this fast-paced consumer lifestyle lies a question of substance. Are we truly richer than the older generations, or are we simply living in a carefully marketed illusion of wealth? This question demands exploration from financial, social, cultural, and psychological perspectives.
One of the most common misconceptions is the equation of lifestyle spending with actual wealth. The ability to purchase numerous outfits in a month, change phones annually, and eat out every weekend is often mistaken for richness. This perception ignores an important truth: spending is not wealth; ownership is.
Our grandparents and their parents may not have indulged in weekly clothing purchases or frequent restaurant visits, yet they owned land, homes, gold, livestock, and businesses. Their possessions endured and were passed down. They left property, not monthly instalments. Their wealth was built on assets, while ours increasingly rests on debt. Many today lease cars, rent apartments, and rely on credit cards for goods they do not fully own. The illusion of affluence holds until the reminder from credit arrives.
From personal observation, I have witnessed a disheartening trend in Kashmir. People are selling ancestral land, once the cornerstone of wealth and security, to build unnecessarily large houses or to purchase luxury cars. The size of these houses often far exceeds the needs of the family. The belief is that such displays will convince others of their wealth. In truth, they are sacrificing lasting security for a short-lived display. Land that could have benefited generations is lost for possessions that will fade in value. This is not foresight but a loss of wisdom, driven by insecurity and the need for validation.
The older generation, particularly in the pre-independence and early post-independence periods, led simpler yet more secure lives. Options were fewer, but financial discipline was greater. A family’s land sustained generations. Homes were built once and maintained for decades. Gold was not merely an ornament but a form of financial protection.
Today, despite higher salaries, many are burdened by housing loans, education debts, monthly instalments, and elevated living costs. Ironically, financial insecurity is more widespread now, fuelled by consumerism, inflation, and the pressure to maintain a public image of prosperity.
Traditionally, wealth was to be built, preserved, and passed on. Older generations left behind property, legacy, and security. Their focus was on investment rather than constant indulgence. In contrast, much of today’s wealth is consumed rather than conserved. Vacations are taken on loans. Clothes are discarded after a season. Even homes and jobs are treated as temporary. The mindset has shifted from building for the next generation to experiencing as much as possible before a certain age. Experiences may hold value, but without long-term planning, future generations will inherit memories instead of assets.
Wealth is not solely material. It encompasses emotional bonds, community support, traditions, and cultural depth. Older generations lived in joint families, shared responsibilities, and supported one another. There was strength in unity. Now, nuclear families are common, and urban loneliness grows. Despite digital networks, emotional disconnection has become widespread. Technology has advanced, yet time, attention, and togetherness have diminished.
Social media reinforces the illusion of modern wealth. Photographs from cafés, images with new cars, or holiday reels create the impression of universal prosperity. Behind these curated images, many struggle with stress, financial strain, and insecurity, yet feel compelled to maintain appearances. Our ancestors had no social media, but they enjoyed peace of mind. Their lives were guided by purpose, community, and sustainability, not by algorithms or online approval.
To see the disparity, consider the value of what our ancestors owned. Land purchased for Rs 5,000 in 1950 might now be worth Rs 5 crores. Families with ancestral land, farms, or traditional businesses held intergenerational wealth, often without fully realising it. Today, property ownership in cities is beyond the reach of many young professionals, even those with good education and stable employment. This reality is often overlooked in generational comparisons.
Earlier, life was marked by self-sufficiency. Families grew their food, preserved seeds, used natural materials, and depended on close-knit networks. Modern life, while convenient, has bred heavy reliance on external systems for food, shopping, energy, and healthcare. A brief disruption, such as a power cut or fuel shortage, can halt daily routines. The older generation could endure without luxuries. Today, many find it difficult to function without the internet.
When the layer stripped away, it becomes clear that today’s wealth is rooted more in consumption and convenience than in financial, emotional, or generational depth. The older generation lived with purpose, stability, and patience. The present generation lives with speed, pressure, and comparison.
We may have more possessions but fewer values, more options but less ownership, greater comfort but less security. Wealth should not be measured by the number of clothes purchased or the model of one’s phone. True richness lies in what we build, preserve, and pass on, not merely in what we consume.
(The author has completed BTech. from NIT Srinagar. Ideas are personal.)
