Skip to main content

In the Temple of Consumption

It is that time of the week again.

I make quick stock of what I need, estimate the total potential size of all the new contents and choose the bag that best fits all, slung it over my shoulder and buzz out. 

And from there the choice starts. 

Where to? Rewe has a better interior with lighting that makes one feel like one is in a classy establishment. The consumables are of better quality, though that does come at a price. Which is not as much of an issue at Kaufland, which is bigger and more spacious and seemingly cheaper. Aldi, well is Aldi. It is where you go when you do not want to see many humans. 

The moment I enter, my mind switches off from everything else. Without me knowing, it scans the plethora of things before me. To call them "things" is but a banal way to describe what is in front of my eyes. The colors, the shapes, the smells, the textures, all screaming out and saying, 

"Look at me"

"Feel me"

"Buy me"

I know what is it I need and I know where to find them. And still every time, there is a minor celebration of achievement every time I find it and it comes at a price that I was expecting. The lower the price, the greater the celebration. Navigating the aisles and squeezing between other trolleys and others all lost in the ecstasy of consumption, I am lost in the endless thoughts.

"1 kilogram of carrots at 1.5 translates to some healthy (and cheap) carrot soup that I had not planned to make that week. There you are Aubergines. Alas why are you still 2.5 per piece, for you have neither the taste nor the nutrition (Amma did say they are bad for the eyes). How about some tomatoes? They do add some flavour to the pasta. Though if I get them, that means I need to get the pasta, the sauce and the meat, in which case I might break the budget. Unless of course, I give up on the carrot soup, which is not that hard when the replacement is bacon in pasta. Ok, now where was the carrots again so I can put this back?"

Assuming I had followed the script, stuck to buying what I knew I needed, I would have been out of there in 30 minutes. But I wander around there for another hour more, enjoying every moment I spent there scanning, choosing, feeling, reading, calculating, putting back, reconsidering, celebrating, regretting, going back, going forward, salivating, debating, deliberating. In the temple of consumption, I am a devout follower, unconsciously warped in a world where I can lay my hands on anything and know that it can be mine. It is where I can go with a plan and the ensuing events almost always follow that plan and when it doesn't, it always opens up another path before me. It is where I feel like I have control, though it might also be where I have none, where I am a victim to my senses and my base human tendency to hoard.

And that is why, every time of that week, I relish the moment I pick up the bag, slung it over my shoulder and head out again.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Journey to the West : Mind Your Language

"Lettuce, tomatoes, onions and spinach", I pointed out to the lady wearing the apron behind the counter. She looked at me questioningly. "LET-USE, TOE-MAT-OH, OH-NION, SPEA-NATCH", I repeated with better enunciation. She looked back down at the the multiple compartments of colourful mix of vegetables, leaves and fruits and methodically grabbed some from each, while repeating the names of the ones she grabbed. "Let-us, Toe-mado, Ah-nion, Spee-Nuch", she clarified. I shrank a bit in embarrassment. With every passing day in the country, my belief that the English education that I received in a former British Colony, that set high and rarely achieved standards in English for its students, was of substandard quality, strengthens. In a well intentioned effort to assimilate, I have over the past couple of months tried to mimic the pronunciation of the Texans. "Howz'it goin man?" "Ye'no"   "Can I ha...

An Eye for an Eye

"Something that three or four years ago you told me was one of the touchstones of maturity: being nice to people even when they’re not nice to you…" - William Styron It was an plan that came out of nowhere. Perhaps half depressed by the winter and half depressed by the inactivity at work, there was sufficient turmoil in the mind to create these type of plans and then let it fester, until something that started off with a what-if turned into a why-not. It would have been the perfect revenge for the past hurt and humiliation that was yet to completely heal.  The circumstances were similar. On one side, an eager visitor who had traveled far to say "Hello" and on the other side, a host, bewildered and surprised by this visit. In the first case, the host would not receive the visitor, who would turn back humiliated and vowing never again. Now the roles were reversed and I was the host. What if I agreed to receive? What if in reality I did not plan to receive? ...

Another Day at the Office

"I am sorry, but are you good at IT?", she inquired with the most apologetic of expression. I gave her an incredulous look. Seriously? This was the second time I was being asked that question in one month and I took offense. It was almost as if the world judged that the only reason my race would be allowed to venture overseas was to fix other people's computers. "No. I am a production engineer", I replied, half wondering if I should clarify it had nothing to do with human production, which my people are also well known for. "Oh. That is a pity. Our printer broke down and we were wondering how to fix it", she said pointing to a piece of contraption that lay on the table nearby. Men being men, I offered to help. On walking over and looking into the inside of the contraption, I saw what most millennials see if they were to ever see the inside of the multiple devices they are perpetually holding onto; abyss. I doubted she would give me a discount f...