The winner takes it all

At the same time, Yadav was also battling the pressure of landing a placement with one of the highest pay packages. “At the end of the course, despite all the efforts I put in, I did not get a good placement. It made me feel left out,” he says. And so, his “fight” to catch up continued. “Despite all the freedom that my generation has, real conversations have become scarce. I did not discuss my problems with my peers or parents. I may have had hundreds of friends online but when I really needed to talk, there was no one,” he says.

Yadav is now enrolled at the Indian Institute of Management, Ahmedabad, a dream for lakhs of students in the country. He has also landed one of the highest placement packages on campus. “I feel vindicated, but I am not sure if I am happy. People around me keep telling me it is a big deal, but I still feel confused. I have been doing things that make me look good, but I am not sure if they are actually worthwhile,” he says.

For, yet again, he finds ahead of him social markers that he feels compelled to achieve. “During work assignments, I interact with people, all of who have an accent, have gone for exotic vacations and posted these images on social media. I feel the compromises are never going to end,” he says.

While his family is elated, Yadav finds himself plagued with doubt. “I have to take a final call on things. I want to follow my passion. But I fear I might give up on my dream,” he says.

‘if you share your life online, you might as well look good’
In the years that followed liberal reforms, television offered an explosion of choices. The new millennium also brought with it the internet revolution and social media boom. For many, such as Saumya Kulshreshtha, it offered a solution to the confusion that her generation was saddled with. “I topped my Class X board exams and that is when all hell broke loose. That was the first time I faced the ‘choice crisis’. Eventually, I couldn’t buck the trend. I gave in to the pressure and opted for science. In Class XI and XII, I couldn’t make head or tail of what I was studying,” says Saumya, who stays in Vikaspuri in west Delhi with her financier father and teacher mother.

Kulshreshtha’s confusions mounted when she began her economics (Hons) course at Delhi University. The subject didn’t excite her much, but cultural activities kept her busy. “I came into my own in college, but after completing the course, I was again left in the lurch. I didn’t even qualify for a Master’s,” she says.

It was then that somebody suggested blogging about her life. “That changed everything for me. My first post had seven comments but it felt like 70,000,” she says with a laugh. “But because of the internet, I always found something to keep myself occupied.”

In the years that followed, Kulshreshtha diversified her profile, and today, she calls herself a writer, blogger, poet, teacher and digital marketeer, travelling between Noida, Gurgaon and Faridabad for work. “It may be a virtual world but social media is helping me create real-life experiences and an identity of my own,” she says.

Does she feel the pressure to keep up appearances on such platforms? “If I am in my pyjamas six out of seven days a week, and on the seventh day I go out, I would put up a picture of the seventh day. What is wrong with that? It is a branding exercise in the times we are living in; professions like mine require it. If you have decided to share your life online, you might as well look good in it,” she says.

While her work is important, maintaining her lifestyle is equally essential to her. “I work really hard, sometimes over 20 hours. I am not comfortable taking a bus, so I work hard to afford a cab. I never stop myself from spending. I have a base amount in my bank and I never go below it. I will even borrow to maintain that amount,” she says.

‘capability alone is not enough’
Mohd Usman Ul Haque, 25, has got admission to the MBA programme at Oxford University in England, but he is not taking up the offer this year. “I don’t want to take money from my parents,” he says. Yet, on most days, he finds himself conflicted by his decision. “Sometimes, I think why am I thinking so much? Many of my peers take money from their parents and go abroad to study in second-rung universities. Why can’t I?” he says.

Haque’s family moved from Munger in Bihar to Delhi several decades ago to facilitate his father’s work as a French interpreter. Born and raised in the capital, Haque has been eager to participate in the start-up boom. When a food start-up failed, he promptly launched another — Let’s Launder, which provides laundry services — with friends. “These days, everyone wants to lap up as much as possible and as soon as possible. I worked at a supply chain consulting firm alongside because I wanted to be financially secure,” he says.

Haque, like many of his peers, claims to understand the “value of money”, but is comfortable taking investment risks and spending on the “finer things in life”. “Half of my money is for saving and the other half for risky investments. I don’t mind an occasional exotic Facebook check-in. Then, of course, there is the expenditure on conveniences. I prefer Uber to autos, Big Basket to an actual grocery store,” he says.

Haque’s biggest insecurity is “not being able to live up to his potential five years from now”. “I know I am capable, that I have above-average intelligence, but the competition is fierce and capability alone is not enough. Every decision is followed by doubt,” he says.

As an urban, educated Muslim, Haque also finds himself engaging more with questions of identity. “Politics has shifted to the internet and that is frustrating. Being a Muslim, it is almost compulsory to denounce the perpetrators of a terror attack on my social media page. That disturbs me at times,” he says.

‘my generation can make a career out of its passions’
Akshat Mittal works as a political consultant in Bangalore, his third job since he graduated. “There is a certain pressure to keep moving on. If someone has stuck to the same job since college, they seem to have stagnated,” he says.

Mittal’s father, a CA, moved to Delhi from Bulandshahr several years ago. Growing up, the focus in the household was on education because only that could lead to a “prosperous future”. “If you were good in studies, you took up science. I did too. The fact that all my peers were taking it up may have added to the decision,” he says. But over time, he managed to break out of the mould with his job at the Citizens for Accountable Governance, which conceptualised Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s 2014 election campaign. “Fortunately, my generation can make a career out of its passions, I know I won’t starve or land on the footpath. Twenty-five years ago, I would probably have been married by now with a child,” he says.

But making a career out of your passion has its price. “You will have to take pay cuts; at times, you will be forced to live by the day and not be able to save. When I was between jobs, I realised I was spending more than I should. I had gotten used to a certain lifestyle. I decided to play it easy, but you always feel like you are missing out on something,” he says.

Mittal, however, is not willing to call time on his dreams. “For our parents, it was about creating a stable life. Our dreams are more aspirational. I want to work for happiness and fulfillment. But it’s tough. Most of us are working away from home and there is no support system. Loneliness and anxiety often creep in. Let’s see what the future holds,” he says.