Millennials spend more on appearances than on food, says Gayatri Jayaraman’s book, Who Me, PoorIJ By Saimi Sattar
I have made mistakes and I am proud of these mistakes, as much as I am of my successes,” says Gayatri Jayaraman, journalist-turned-author. Out with her first physical, non-fiction book, Who Me, PoorIJ, which has interesting case studies and anecdotes of everyone from celebrities to artists to tech workers and entrants putting themselves in a debt to keep up with appearences.
But this was not Jayaraman’s first attempt to showcase what has been referred to as “Poverty with no name”. last year, she made quite a splash with an article in Buzzfeed, The Urban Poor You Haven’t Noticed: Millennials Who’re Broke, Hungry, But On Trend, that went viral. “I saw a piece in The Atlantic which discussed this phenomemenon. I tweeted this story, saying that I want to do it with Indian references. On Twitter, people started sharing their stories with me,” she recalls. Buzzfeed, a social and entertainment news website, asked her to write the story. At this time Jayaraman, who has worked with Mint lounge and India Today was writing an e-book for Juggernaut, called Indigenius: Our Eye in the Sky and also contributing to websites and newspapers. “The article went viral. I realised, there were so many more people who were going through this and I realised for documenting it properly, I needed to write a book.”
Jayaraman had been witnessing the phenomenon around her and to an extent had also been afflicted by it. “We dress for the jobs we want, forgetting that most salaries are tailored to afford dressing for the jobs we have,” she says. As a 26-year-old, single mother, she could ill afford a fashionable Ritu Kumar pant suit — but ended up buying. At 40, she could easily recognise those symptoms in others when she saw them. “Some of it I went through myself, which made me more aware and empathetic. It made it easier to notice juniours who would borrow money from me or asked me to go out for coffee because they did not have money. That is where it actually started.”
And there is a reason why millenials were primarily afflicted by it. She says, “In pre-liberalised India, the value system was different. The lifelong dream of our parent’s generation was to have a stable job, to be able to qualify for a home loan, buy a house, have an FD, some bank balance and buy some gold. But these things do not make this generation happy. Mobility is seen as a virtue by them, where they want to get up and see the world. Money sitting in the bank is considered useless or even a waste.”
Once she was set on doing this project, she met people, Skyped with them or emailed them. “One person from Hyderabad, after reading the essay broke down and started crying as he could identify with the piece. His supervisor asked him to go home so that he could get a hold over his emotions. Can you imagine that a 27-year-old has been reduced to this stateIJ” she says. She also realised that while talking to all these people she would have to be sensitive, as not just money was involved but also pride.
When she delved deeper she realised that there was not just financial poverty but also an emotional one. As Ronnie Kuriakose, one of the case studies, says in the book, “Everyone around is going through this silently. Many contemplate depression and suicide, because cutting back on resources, no food, no socialising, leaves them desperately lonely.”
Jayaraman too agrees. “People need human interaction as there is this sense of uprootedness where they feel that despite having studied so much there is no connect,” says Jayaraman, a Tamilian, who was born in Mumbai and grew up in lagos, Nigeraia. She also lived for sometime in Kodaikanal before going to Mumbai for college. She lived and worked in Hyderabad and moved to Mumbai again, after her divorce.
But even though she decided on writing the book, life wasn’t that simple. “last March, I was working on Indigenius and then till September on this book. Between September and December, I worked for DNA’s launch. For a month, I used to work till 2 am, sleep for an hour and then work till 5-6 on the book before sending my son off to school,” she says.
Her son, who is 16 now was appearing for the class Xth boards while she was writing the book. “My son is a stable, sensible boy who is chilled out and calm. He told me to focus on my work while he would be responsible for his. I would not have been able to give so much of time to the book, if he hadn’t been the way he was,” she says. While she completed her book, her son also scored a 97 per cent in the exams. So, in the end, all the hard work did pay off.
Her three books deal with Bloomsbury means that she will be out with two more books, one of which is called, Who Me, FeministIJ The second book will hit the stands early next year.
Excerpts from Who Me, PoorIJ by Gayatri Jayaraman
“If I had changed my car, would my career have grown fasterIJ”
Kalki Koechlin, 32, Actress, Mumbai
I’ve grown up in a different way. I’ve never had to run away or deal with emotional pressure. Ever since I’ve been in the industry I’ve been driving a Maruti Swift. It’s a small, useful car. But it’s not a badigaadi. Directors often ask me why I don’t change it. It just doesn’t interest me to change that. I’ve lived in a friend’s house on the sofa. When I first came I lived in Mahim opposite the station. I would have to ride the train in these ridiculous outfits, the short, glittery dresses and make-up required for some role. People stare at you. I have always been a little bit willing for that to happen than borrow the money that I don’t have. I do know that pressures exist. I still don’t have a PR person, people keep telling me to get a stylist. But I don’t see why I have to pay out Rs 50,000 to plant a story about my cat. I’d rather give that excess money if I had it to my maid and the people who actually run my house. I know of many struggles. A friend went to an audition and was told, ‘you look like a gaonvaali’. They’ll say it up front: ‘What are you doing hereIJ’ ‘lose the thighs’ ‘Do something about your teeth’… I knew there was five years left in my career when I turned 30. There are people who use Botox for laugh lines, girls way too young do it. It’s an industry that requires a lot of maintenance – nails, spa and hair. Which neighbourhood you live in shouldn’t matter either, lokhandwala Andheri is cheaper than Bandra and what works for you should dictate where you choose to live. But it doesn’t, and at the end of the day, I don’t know if it helps that much. The right things will keep coming your way, but it is said
that there is something in being seen. When you are in the limelight, attending parties and auditions are ways in which to get your next project-but it has never worked for me. I don’t know how to advertise myself. I don’t set up Google alerts about myself. I think one’s work should speak for itself. But, yes, there are times when I wonder if I had changed my car, would my career have gone differently.
“Because society believes 25-year-olds can change the world”
Ronnie Kuriakose, 26, Publishing Publicist, New Delhi, from Kochi
I had gone overseas to do my Masters degree and when I came back, I left Kochi, Kerala to join a major publishing firm in New Delhi. I started as an intern and worked my way up and am now a publicist. I’ve lived in New Delhi for over two and a half years. I live in Nizamuddin now. On the side, I design card and board games and plan to start my own company with a couple of friends-we’re almost there.
Coming to New Delhi from Kochi I had to adjust a lot, Delhi is huge and it is hard to connect. Over here, if you work in a good place, you have to maintain the mask of doing okay. Especially for someone like me who has two sides to my work personality. I do a lot of events, have done several with the Vice President of our company, but I’m also the down to earth guy who will shake hands with the security guard. So my ease of access to both the top tier and the bottom tier is important to who I am and how I am perceived in my professional role. I am always well dressed. My look and feel is of a polished, dapper guy.
When I came, I was new, and I didn’t know anyone except the people I worked with and I couldn’t bother them. In November 2014, I didn’t have a proper place to stay, and when my lease expired, I didn’t have enough money to get a new house in my budget. So I had to rent a shabby room in INA, New Delhi. It was the only place I could get a room for Rs 1,500 a month. It was shabby, to say the least. There have been days when I would live on a single meal a day and still show up completely dapper in my suit, at events I had to organise and host.
These are the two sides of the personality coin. While trying to save as much, if you have committed to a certain lifestyle, you have to spend. There is no choice. If you have to host client meetings, you have to take them to a proper social club – I met Subramanian Swami last week – I can’t go to a cheap joint. Recently, an author asked me how he should sign his books, so I’ve been undertaking independent research to ask design firms the best font, colour, what should it say, how best authors should sign books. I take up personal projects as part of my professional act because I invest in making myself a better professional.
I live near the Golf Course now, so I called up and asked if I could volunteer. Every Sunday I wake up at 6 AM and head to the Course; while I volunteer I meet people I would never get to know in other circumstances. I also tag along to go to the Race Club, or the Gymkhana. These are places and people I would not encounter otherwise.
Today, it is a necessity to do such things.
Part of it is because of the added pressure on anyone my age by the rest of the world. The world believes millennials can change the world. Because I’m 26, I’m expected to know. If I don’t come up with ideas often, there are people younger than me-20-year-olds are tech savvy and knowledgeable and their learning is rapid-and those older than me, whose expectations I must meet. This dual competitiveness requires it.
At first I thought it was just me, but then I look around and realise everyone is going through this silently. Many contemplate depression and suicide, because cutting back on resources, no food, no socialising, leaves them desperately lonely. They just don’t say it because it will spoil their image. I can’t blame technology alone but this very real lack of companionship has something to do with it. We are all isolated now.