Gold Rush

October 13, 2025 1 Comment

As the festive season in India is ongoing, jewellers across India are ready, investors tracking bullion prices, and families waiting eagerly for the most “auspicious” day of the year to buy gold. Dhanteras, celebrated two days before Diwali, has long been associated with the purchase of the precious metal, a tradition believed to bring prosperity and good fortune. Similar buying frenzies occur during Akshaya Tritiya, weddings, Karwa Chauth, and harvest festivals, when gold is not merely an adornment but a cultural marker of wealth and status.

Market reports celebrate the crores spent, but beneath the sparkle lies a complex story of culture, aspiration, and economics. Is festival gold-buying a timeless symbol of financial prudence and cultural continuity, or is it a cycle of consumption propelled by social pressure, marketing, and habit?

India’s love affair with gold is centuries old. From the time of the Indus Valley civilisation to the Mauryan emperors to our modern nuclear families, gold has been a medium of exchange, a store of value, and a token of spiritual significance. For millions, gold is not just metal, it is Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth herself. Dhanteras literally means “the thirteenth day of wealth,” and families believe that buying gold on this day invites abundance.

This cultural reverence made economic sense in a pre-banking era. Gold’s intrinsic value and portability provided a hedge against famine, emergency, and currency devaluation. Rural households, lacking access to formal savings mechanism, used jewellery as insurance and collateral. Even today, India remains the world’s second-largest consumer of gold, with annual demand often exceeding 700–800 tonnes. For many, gold remains the most trusted form of intergenerational wealth transfer.

Yet, today’s festival buying is no longer just about family heirlooms or prudent savings. It has evolved into a multi-billion-rupee economic event. According to trade bodies like the All-India Gem and Jewellery Domestic Council, Dhanteras sales often spike by 20–25% year-on-year, depending on price trends. In 2024, for example, despite gold hovering at record highs of around INR61,000 per 10 grams, jewellers reported robust demand, with many urban consumers opting for lighter designs or digital gold to keep up with tradition.

Specific estimates for festival (especially Dhanteras) sales in recent years help show the proportion of demand tied to ritual buying. During Dhanteras in 2024, around 20-22 tonnes of gold were sold, worth nearly INR 16,000 crore. The full jewellery sector during the festival period saw sales in the INR 18,000-20,000 crore.

The annual figures show India’s gold demand continues to be immense, though shifting in nature,

  • In 2024, India’s total gold demand rose to around 802.8 tonnes, up from 761 tonnes in 2023.  
  • The value of gold purchases in 2024 was estimated at INR 5.15 lakh crore (~US$60-70 billion depending on gold price).  
  • Jewellery demand in 2024 was ~ 563 tonnes, with the non-ornamental purchases (coins/bars) making up ~ 239 tonnes.   

These numbers reflect overall demand, not just festival or Dhanteras purchases, but festivals remain a major driver. The data show that although overall demand has often crept upward in value terms (driven by price inflation), the volume of jewellery demand has at times fallen or stagnated. For example, in 2024 jewellery tonnage demand dropped ~2% compared to 2023 even as value increased.

Targeted marketing plays a huge role. Advertisements link gold to auspiciousness and emotional milestones, “Gift prosperity,” “Secure her future,” “Start your Diwali with gold.” Social media influencers and celebrity endorsements reinforce the message that a festival without gold is incomplete. This creates a powerful psychological loop: buying gold is not just desirable, it is expected.

The Dhanteras gold rush is fuelled by a mix of fear and aspiration. Gold retains a near-mystical aura as a hedge against uncertainty. Global financial instability, inflation, and geopolitical tensions often send prices higher, reinforcing the perception of gold as a “safe haven.” For middle-class families, a few grams bought every year feels like both a celebration and a safety net.

But there is also the quieter pressure of status. Weddings, festivals, and social gatherings often showcase jewellery as a measure of success. The fear of “falling behind” relatives or neighbours can nudge families, especially in smaller towns and rural areas, into stretching budgets and even getting into debt trap to maintain appearances. What was once a hedge against uncertainty can change into a source of financial strain.

From a macroeconomic perspective, India’s gold obsession is a double edged sword. While the jewellery industry supports millions of jobs, from miners to artisans to retailers, it also represents a massive outflow of capital. India imports more than 90% of its gold, spending billions of dollars in foreign exchange each year. Economists have long argued that this “dead investment” locks up household savings in a non-productive asset, diverting funds from sectors like manufacturing, infrastructure, or technology that could generate higher returns and employment.

For individual households, the opportunity cost is equally significant. A family buying gold at festival-time may forgo investing in equity markets, mutual funds, or even bank deposits that could provide compounding growth. Gold prices, while generally stable over the long term, are not immune to volatility as we are witnessing now with gold prices rising to INR 120K+ per 10 grams. The metal offers no dividends or interest; its value lies only in resale or emotional satisfaction.

Beyond economics lies an often-ignored cost, the environmental impact of gold mining. Extracting gold is an energy-intensive process that generates toxic waste and contributes to deforestation, soil erosion, and water pollution. Globally, gold mining is associated with mercury contamination and significant carbon emissions. While India imports much of its gold, domestic refining and artisanal mining also pose environmental challenges.

Consumers rarely connect their festival purchases to these ecological consequences. The cultural narrative of purity and prosperity masks the fact that every bangle and coin carries a hidden footprint. Ethical sourcing, such as recycled gold or fair-trade certifications, is slowly gaining traction among urban, environmentally conscious buyers, but remains a niche segment.

As India’s economy digitises, a quiet transformation is underway. Younger consumers, especially in cities, are exploring alternatives to physical gold. Digital gold platforms, gold exchange-traded funds (ETFs), and sovereign gold bonds (SGBs) allow individuals to invest in gold without worrying about purity, storage, or theft.

These products offer flexibility and sometimes better returns. Sovereign gold bonds, for instance, pay annual interest and are exempt from capital gains tax if held to maturity. Yet they also challenge the cultural core of gold-buying: there is no ornament to wear, no glitter to display, no festive ritual of walking into a jewellery shop on Dhanteras. For many families, the emotional experience is as important as the investment itself. Still, the shift is undeniable. Digital gold platforms have reported double-digit growth during recent festivals, particularly among younger investors who value convenience and liquidity over tradition.

So where does this leave the Indian consumer? To dismiss festival gold-buying as mere superstition would be simplistic. Traditions provide continuity, identity, and joy. For rural households with limited access to financial products, gold remains a practical and trusted savings tool.

But to ignore the economic, environmental, and social pressures embedded in this ritual is equally shortsighted. When a practice once rooted in prudence becomes a compulsive annual expense, it risks becoming a trap. The symbolism of prosperity can mask financial strain, and the celebration of abundance can conceal environmental degradation. Festivals can retain their joy without becoming economic burdens. A few grams of gold bought with intention, rather than compulsion, can honour tradition while respecting modern realities.

Dhanteras will always hold a special place in the Indian calendar. The sight of families entering jewellery shops, and elders blessing the new purchase is undeniably heartwarming. Yet it is worth remembering that true prosperity lies not in the weight of gold but in the wisdom of choice.

As India strides into a digital, climate conscious future, perhaps the most auspicious act is not buying more gold, but buying it mindfully acknowledging its beauty, its history, and its hidden costs. The goddess of wealth, after all, smiles brightest on those who balance tradition with thoughtfulness.

Buy thoughtfully. Celebrate responsibly. Live consciously.

(Cover image generated using AI)

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Algorithmic Self

September 29, 2025 Leave a comment

In today’s digital landscape, our identities are increasingly shaped by algorithms. These complex sets of rules and calculations determine the content we see on social media, the advertisements we encounter, and even the news we consume. This phenomenon, often referred to as the ‘algorithmic self,’ highlights the interplay between technology and personal identity. Algorithmic mechanisms on digital media are powered by social drivers, creating a feedback loop complicating the role of algorithms and existing social structures. 

At the core of the algorithmic self is the idea that our online behaviours and interactions feed into algorithms that, in turn, influence our future actions. Are we becoming the people our feeds want us to be? Scroll long enough on social media platforms like Insta, Tube, or FB and you’ll notice that the content feels uncannily tailored to you. Your feed seems to know what you crave before you do, an oddly perfect mix of travel destinations, recipes, memes, news, workouts, and political takes. This can lead to a more personalised online experience, but it also raises questions about the extent to which our choices are truly our own. What began as a convenience has evolved into something far more consequential. We are not merely using algorithms anymore; we are slowly becoming the selves they design for us.

Algorithms are built to predict and keep us engaged. Every click, pause, like, or scroll is recorded and analysed. In return, the system feeds us more of what we have already consumed. This sounds harmless. After all, who wouldn’t want relevant recommendations? But personalization is never neutral. When a platform rewards the content that hooks us, it amplifies our biases and shrinks our curiosity. Over time, the feedback loop begins to define our worldview, narrowing the range of opinions, art, music, or even relationships we encounter.

The unsettling part is that the algorithm’s goal is not truth, diversity, or personal growth. It is engagement. If desire makes you scroll, it will serve you love. If envy fuels your clicks, it will curate envy-inducing lifestyles. What feels like a reflection of your taste is often a reflection of what keeps you online.

Human behaviour is always shaped by culture, but algorithmic influence is different in speed and precision. Traditional media might set trends, but it never recalibrated itself in real time for every individual. Today, AI systems track micro-reactions—how long your eyes linger on a video frame, how quickly you swipe away, and adjust instantly.

This raises a disturbing question. When you decide to buy a product, support a social cause, or adopt a new hobby, how much of that decision is you, and how much is a carefully engineered nudge? We still feel autonomous because the algorithm rarely forces choices. Instead, it quietly limits what enters the realm of possibility. You can’t choose what you don’t see. Is this the erosion of free will?

Living in an algorithmic world also reshapes identity. Our “digital selves” are rewarded for consistency. The more we like certain posts, the more similar content we receive, and the more we feel pressure to maintain that version of ourselves, whether it’s the fitness enthusiast, the foodie, the activist, or the minimalist. The feed trains us to be predictable because unpredictability breaks the machine’s efficiency.

The rise of the algorithmic self also brings about ethical considerations. There are concerns about privacy, as the data collected to fuel these algorithms often includes personal and sensitive information. Additionally, there is the issue of transparency. Many algorithms operate as ‘black boxes,’ with their inner workings hidden from users. This lack of transparency can make it difficult to understand how decisions are being made and to hold platforms accountable for their actions.

Many people feel a subtle dissonance, their offline preferences drift, but their online persona stays fixed. We perform for the algorithm, optimizing captions, hashtags, even our emotions, to remain visible. Our feeds don’t just reflect who we are, they encourage us to stay who we were yesterday.

But then how do we break the loop?  The answer is not to reject technology altogether. Algorithms are not inherently evil; they can help us discover music, connect with communities, find a job we want, or learn skills we might never find on our own. The challenge is to reclaim agency within the system.

Practical acts of resistance can be quite simple, like, disrupting the feed by clicking on unfamiliar topics or following people outside your cultural bubble; time-box social media use or schedule ‘algorithm-free’ days; read newsletters or listen podcasts where engagement isn’t the primary metric. There could be several other ways to disrupt and reintroduce randomness. However, the most important step, is awareness. Algorithms will always evolve faster than regulations or ethical guidelines. The only lasting defence is a conscious user, someone who understands that every scroll is a form of training data.

The algorithmic self represents a significant shift in how we navigate our identities in the digital age. The question is not whether technology shapes us. It always has. As we continue to integrate technology into our daily lives, it is essential to remain mindful of the ways in which algorithms shape our identities and to advocate for greater transparency and ethical considerations in their design and implementation. The real question is whether we allow a handful of opaque systems to quietly define what we desire, believe, and become. If we don’t actively resist, our algorithmic selves may thrive while our authentic selves quietly disappear into the feed.

Cover image generated using AI

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How sustainable is Sustainability?

September 15, 2025 Leave a comment

Few words have travelled as far and wide in recent decades as “sustainability”, and has certainly surpassed another overused (in recent past) term ‘social capital’ in usage! It has become synonymous with progress in corporate boardrooms, multilateral summits, government policies, NGO goals, and grassroots movements alike. From ESG scorecards to climate pledges, from net-zero roadmaps to community-led conservation, the language of sustainability has become universal. Every government strategy, corporate report, and grassroots initiative seems anchored in the promise of a more sustainable future. Yet beneath this consensus lies a paradoxical and uncomfortable question: ‘is the sustainability agenda itself sustainable?’

The modern sustainability agenda rests on a powerful proposition that economic growth, social equity, and environmental stewardship can be reconciled. This “triple bottom line” has mobilized unprecedented investment in renewable energy, green finance, and inclusive business models. It has inspired younger generations to demand more from institutions. And it has reframed long-term resilience as a competitive advantage, not a trade-off. But the very breadth of the agenda also makes it fragile. Sustainability risks becoming a catch-all phrase, diluted by overuse and co-opted for public relations more than systemic change. “Greenwashing” scandals, short political cycles, and the uneven costs of climate transitions all threaten to erode public trust. Without credibility and consistency, the agenda risks collapsing under its own ambition.

Sustainability requires commitments that extend far beyond the horizon of electoral politics. Yet in many countries, climate targets or ESG mandates are vulnerable to reversal when governments change. Contrast this with the European Union’s legally binding climate law, a structural safeguard that makes sustainability less of a political preference and more of a shared contract. Unless sustainability is institutionally embedded, it remains hostage to short sightedness.

Green growth advocates argue that economies can decouple prosperity from resource use. The rapid expansion of renewable energy, circular economy models, and impact investing provide evidence of possibility. Yet sceptics highlight that global consumption continues to outpace planetary boundaries. The sustainability agenda will endure only if it reconciles with the fundamental question of growth Vs limits. Can infinite growth coexist with finite resources?

No agenda, however well-intentioned, survives if it is perceived as unjust. For sustainability to be sustainable, it must embody fairness that includes redistributing costs, creating inclusive opportunities, and acknowledging diverse voices, particularly from the Global South. Social justice and legitimacy must go hand in hand.

Ultimately, sustainability is not just a strategy, it is a cultural shift. The more it embeds in consumer choices, organizational values, and educational systems, the harder it becomes to reverse. Yet cultural fatigue is real. When “sustainability” is reduced to a buzzword on every product label, development projects, and corporate brochure, it risks losing meaning. The agenda must therefore move from rhetoric to demonstrable impact, measured transparently and communicated honestly.

The sustainability agenda is both fragile and resilient. Fragile because it depends on long-term alignment across politics, markets, and societies, an alignment often in short supply. Resilient because it has transcended niche environmentalism to become a mainstream expectation that governments and corporations cannot ignore.

Its endurance will depend not on visionary statements but on institutional embedding, equitable policies, and a relentless focus on credibility. At its best, sustainability can serve as the organising principle of a new social contract, aligning business, government, and citizens toward long-term collective wellbeing. Sustainability will only be sustainable if it delivers, not someday, but today.

The next frontier is not about asking companies, governments, or communities to “do more” on sustainability. It is about demanding structural integrity – mechanisms, institutions, and accountability frameworks that ensure sustainability survives political shifts, economic pressures, and cultural fatigue.

Disclaimer: The opinions expressed are those of the author and do not purport to reflect the views or opinions of any organization, foundation, CSR, non-profit or others.

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How Social Media Reels are Redefining Relationships

July 9, 2025 Leave a comment

Social media has evolved over the last decade and more so during and post COVID-19 from a casual means of communication to a complex social ecosystem where relationships are not only maintained but also publicly measured, performed, and often misunderstood. The act of tagging someone in a post or sending a reel now frequently carries more weight than the content itself and appears to be a new language of intimacy, loyalty, and belonging.

Human relationships were always forged and maintained through physical presence, shared experiences, and mutual conversation. While those elements still hold value, social media platforms like Instagram, WhatsApp, and Facebook have changed social interaction. Friendship seems to have become ‘performative’ and is now getting increasingly defined by our digital gestures, who we tag, send content to, and frequently react to on social media. The exchange of DMs, reels, memes, and story replies may seem petty, but they have become the new currency of connection. In this new digital age, being remembered in someone’s “share” list is a modern affirmation of your place in their emotional world where time is divided and attention is commodified. It’s no longer the maturity of the friendship built over years defining the strength of the connection, this new phenomenon has been affecting and afflicting across all age groups from teens to people in their 70s!

What used to be simple rules for friendship, like coffee, conversations, and sharing silly jokes over text, has now changed. Friendship is now measured in direct messages, tags, and who receives the meme first. It’s no longer just about being included; it’s about being the first and only one included. Because nothing says “you matter to me” like a cat video at 3 AM. Social media platforms promote visibility and engagement. As a result, users develop interaction patterns that reflect this trend. Relationships are increasingly maintained through small interactions: likes, reactions, emojis, replies, and short content exchanges. These replace deeper communication, creating the illusion of closeness without needing much time or vulnerability.

Algorithmic affection is growing. If you engage often with someone’s content, they will show up more in your feed, and vice versa. This strengthens some relationships while quietly undermining others. Sometimes, a drop in communication doesn’t stem from emotional distance but rather because an algorithm has quietly removed someone from your digital view. Social media has turned even the smallest actions into emotional signals that are often unintentional. Reels are like modern-day carrier pigeons of affection, flying through algorithmic skies and delivering 60 seconds of inside jokes, shared interests, or passive-aggressive messages.

A subtle but clear hierarchy has formed in social groups based on digital content. Who sees the funny video first? Who is tagged in the inside joke? Who gets included in close friends’ stories? These digital hierarchies provide new social cues about belonging, preference, and even exclusion. This change creates anxiety and social tension, particularly for those who often read omissions or changes in online behaviour as signs of personal problems. We’ve all experienced this. You’re casually scrolling through the group chat, dodging memes and unwanted life updates, when you notice that your friend has been sending reels, but not to you. Instead, they are sending them to someone else in your friend circle. Betrayal has never looked so clear.

With constant connectivity and “always on” friendships comes an unintended consequence: relational burnout. There was a time when friendships were tested by forgotten birthdays. Now, deep emotional hurt comes from not being tagged in a reel or story about something entirely unrelated. The pressure to respond quickly, stay updated, and keep up with every friend’s online persona can drain the joy of connection. Friendship, once based on depth, now often depends on speed and consistency, two measures that reflect platforms more than people. This urgency leads to miscommunication. A late reply, a missed tag, or a seen-but-not-responded reel can be seen as disinterest or rejection, even if the reason is trivial. As a result, friendships suffer not from real conflict but from imagined slights born from the overly sensitive nature of digital interaction.

Soon, new measures of connection and relationships will emerge, and platforms will introduce new tools to assess your FQ (Friendship Quotient). Measure these three indicators, and you’ll have your FQ. Like quarterly or annual performance reviews at school, these FQ levels will shape the future of friendship.

Quality of friendship = (number of reels received × frequency of tags) / number of mutual story reacts. 

Closeness coefficient = number of times you get the reel before it appears on your public feed/total reels posted. 

Emotional intimacy level = number of times and frequency they send you the reel with “this reminded me of you” instead of a lifeless emoji.

Despite the challenges, social media offers new ways to show care and share thoughts. A well-timed meme or relevant reel can bring laughter, validation, and a shared moment of joy across distances. In an increasingly busy and scattered world, these exchanges can be lifelines.

But, like all technologies, mindful use is essential. As we adjust to this new relational landscape, we should consider, 

– Are we truly connecting, or just maintaining a facade of connection?

– Are we sharing to include others, or to show how close we are? 

– Are we interpreting digital silence too severely, or using it too carelessly?

In the end, while the medium has changed, the need for empathy, intention, and presence remains the same. Whether through reels, texts, or face-to-face conversations, what we all want is simple: to be seen, to be valued, and to know we matter.

(All views are personal)

Cover Photo: Generated using Ai

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Measuring Entrepreneurial Attitude

June 23, 2025 Leave a comment

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In India’s rural economy, entrepreneurship has emerged not merely as a means of livelihood but as a powerful solution for social and economic transformation. While skills development programs like Skill India, Startup India, and Deen Dayal Upadhyaya Grameen Kaushalya Yojana, and numerous capacity-building workshops by NGOs have made significant progress in imparting entrepreneurial aptitude, the more elusive and often underappreciated dimension is entrepreneurial attitude. This inner compass and entrepreneurial mindset, shaped by motivation and initiative, resilience, risk-taking ability, adaptability, and opportunity identification, is what ultimately sustains a venture through uncertainty.

Entrepreneurial aptitude is teachable. It usually comprises financial literacy, business planning, marketing, and digital skills, domains that lend themselves well to structured training modules. However, attitude is behavioural, psychological, and deeply contextual, especially in rural environments where social, cultural, and economic factors deeply influence individual motivation and risk behaviour.

While technical institutions, NGOs, and government agencies have scaled up skilling programs in rural areas, the absence of reliable frameworks to assess entrepreneurial attitude results in misdirected investments, high dropout rates, or business failures post-startup.

I believe that the right attitude matters more in rural entrepreneurship, or even entrepreneurship in general. Rural entrepreneurship has its unique challenges, like limited access to finance and markets, lack of required infrastructure, socio-cultural constraints, especially for women, and low institutional support. Here, it is the right attitude of the aspiring entrepreneur, which is a mix of persistence, opportunity-seeking, and resourcefulness, that becomes the decisive factor between failure and success.

Current programs lack structured mechanisms to assess and nurture entrepreneurial attitude at the rural level, leading to inefficient selection of beneficiaries, poor resource utilization, and low sustainability of rural enterprises. Therefore, the critical question remains how we can measure the right entrepreneurial attitude in an aspiring entrepreneur at the rural level.

The challenge of evaluating attitude is not technical; it is conceptual. We must shift from a one-size-fits-all model to contextual diagnostics that honour rural reality. It is easy to dismiss a rural woman hesitant to speak in public as lacking “confidence.” But her daily navigation of caste norms, household labour, social conditioning, and budget constraints may reflect resilience and resourcefulness of the highest order.

What we must measure is not textbook confidence, but contextual courage. In my two decades of working with rural entrepreneurs in India, from tribal regions of the Northeastern states to drought-prone villages in Rajasthan, I’ve learned that talent is universal, but opportunity is not. Entrepreneurial attitude is not the privilege of the urban educated; it is often deeply embedded in rural lived experiences.

Our systems must develop culturally sensitive, grassroots-rooted, participatory frameworks to identify, not implant, an entrepreneurial attitude. Only then can we build truly inclusive ecosystems that tap into the latent power of rural changemakers. The future of rural entrepreneurship lies not in the replication of urban models but in recognizing and nurturing the indigenous spark. It is time we built tools that are beyond skills, to the spirit.

I am developing a framework and associated tools and metrics for measuring entrepreneurial attitude for inclusive rural enterprise development. I am calling it, “Rural Entrepreneurial Attitude Identification and Development (READ) Framework”. I will publish it as my next post.

Disclaimer: The opinions expressed are those of the author and do not purport to reflect the views or opinions of any organization, foundation, CSR, non-profit or others.

The cover image is generated using Ai.

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