In our newsroom during the summer months, particularly during the early morning shifts, we have developed a tradition: ordering Vietnamese coffee along with whatever breakfast snacks happen to catch our fancy that day. This routine is not extravagant; it typically occurs twice a week, with each order costing us less than Rs 200.
It seems harmless enough, doesn’t it?
Little did we know that these seemingly minor expenditures could lead to significant financial challenges.
We often find humor in our situation, reflecting on how our parents, at our age, worked fewer hours than we do now, earned considerably less than what we make in 2026, and yet managed to purchase homes. Many even bought houses in areas that are now highly sought after. They also managed to own vehicles, raise families, support relatives, and still had savings to spare.
In contrast, we regard that Rs 200 coffee as a glaring example of our financial struggles ahead.
Our parents frequently remind us how these “small” costs accumulate. They urge us to stop ordering food, brew our coffee at home, use public transport, save more, invest early, and avoid unnecessary expenditures. Most critically, they emphasize the importance of considering the purchase of a house and a car, as these are essential for the future.
While this advice is logical, the definition of “logical” seems to stem from a different economic landscape.
What exactly are we saving for in an environment where the very things we aim to buy keep escalating in price at a pace outstripping our salaries? A home that once could be acquired through a few years of disciplined saving now feels like a lifelong financial endeavor. The cost of a car comes with monthly payments, insurance, and maintenance fees. Rent consumes our paychecks before the month even begins. Amidst paying bills, assisting family, occasional travel, and striving to enjoy the life we are laboring for, there is little left over.
So, sure, I could forgo the Vietnamese coffee.
But will saving that Rs 200 genuinely bring me closer to home ownership?
Perhaps Generation Z does have different spending habits. However, it may be worthwhile to first consider what we are spending our money on.
Items such as a good pair of earbuds, a subscription to a streaming service, the occasional expensive coffee, concert tickets, a reliable phone, or a dinner out after work are not typically associated with building generational wealth. Yet, they represent tangible purchases that fit within our budget.
In the corporate capitalist environment where most of us work, appearances are crucial. Your smartphone, your attire, the restaurant you recommend for team dinners, the coffee you bring to the office, and even the headphones on your desk all contribute to your professional image. Trends shift rapidly, and being perceived as “out of touch” can feel more costly socially than being financially imprudent.
It’s also challenging to advise a 28-year-old to eliminate all small pleasures for the sake of purchasing a house they might not acquire until they are 48, especially when the job they currently hold may not exist in its current form five years from now.
We have witnessed companies lay off thousands of employees in an instant. We have seen seasoned professionals applying for positions meant for individuals half their age. We are constantly reminded to enhance our skills, outperform others, network, maintain visibility, and stay “relevant” because there is always someone younger, cheaper, and more willing to work longer hours waiting in the wings.
So yes, I could invest that Rs 200 coffee into a systematic investment plan (SIP).
But I might also choose to spend it on something that makes waking up at 5:30 AM for a shift a bit more bearable.
The more significant issue is that the aspiration we are encouraged to forgo keeps receding further from reach. Save diligently in your twenties, they say, and perhaps by your forties, you can own a home—provided you’re willing to dedicate the next 20 years repaying a mortgage.
Meanwhile, the earbuds are functional. The coffee is enjoyable. The Netflix subscription actually provides us with entertainment this month.
A house is an investment. However, when your entire working life already feels like an investment in an uncertain future, finding joy in the present can start to seem less like financial irresponsibility and more like validation that you are indeed living.
I consider myself to be somewhat financially prudent. I seldom purchase new clothing, cosmetics, or accessories. I willingly wear hand-me-downs from my mother and aunts, proudly calling them vintage. I invest in SIPs, pay for life insurance and healthcare, and begrudgingly manage the other obligatory financial responsibilities that no one warned us would be so tedious. I do not own excessively expensive gadgets, and apart from the occasional impulse buy, I rarely spend more than Rs 3,000 on myself.
So why does being financially responsible still feel like being financially trapped?
Perhaps it’s because the way we earn has evolved just as much as our spending habits.
Individuals my age often stay late at work, respond to messages over weekends, and take calls while supposedly on leave—not necessarily out of ambition to become CEOs, but simply to maintain our employment. We work longer hours for wages that frequently fail to match inflation, all while being reminded that there are countless others ready to fill our positions.
And so, we find ourselves buying that coffee.
We book a vacation after months of relentless work. We purchase that one slightly extravagant bag because, after a year of professional dissatisfaction, we feel we deserve a treat that isn’t just another spreadsheet.
Perhaps these small indulgences are not signs of poor financial management but rather a way to motivate ourselves to endure the lives we strive so hard to support.
Because if the reward for being financially cautious, perpetually exhausted, and constantly employable is merely more labor, it’s understandable why we sometimes opt for the coffee.
There exists an existential question lurking beneath all this that extends far beyond coffee.
What if I choose not to buy a house? What if I forgo purchasing a car? What if I spend the next 20 years…?
