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Buttering Up To Choice: A FOB's First Foray Into American Consumerism
Featured Author:
Anurag Chatrath
Anurag, an IIM Ahmedabad alumnus, is a corporate banker by profession though he claims allegiance to words and not numbers. He gave up his career to pursue a Masters in Creative Writing. He never went back to banking and now freelances so as to combine his two passions of writing and traveling. Past assignments have been with publications such as India Today Travel Plus, Financial Express, and Hindustan Times. His other pursuits include music, languages (French and Italian, more coming) and Yoga. His friends are tired of his I-am-travelling-to-South-America-next-month statements. A couple of books are in the writing.
Check out Anurag’s website at www.anuragchatrath.com
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October 27, 2007
Standing in front of a large aisle, with multiple displays, Anurag Chatrath wonders if choice is the best thing that happened in his life.
“Don’t forget to get cereal for me too,” her voice requests (‘commands’?) me over the mobile as I’m standing, of all places, in the cereals aisle. As I wonder if she has access to CCTV feeds, she says the words every clueless husband shudders hearing, “I hope you remember which brand I like.”
“Which brand? I didn’t even realize that you ate cereal,” is what I should have truthfully offered. But then, misplaced bravado is not one of my virtues, so I ended up with a tame, “Of course honey! You think I wouldn’t know your favorite brand.”
I was dreading that she would call my bluff with an OK-tell-me-which-one. Fortunately, she just disconnected the phone with an absent-minded ‘bye.’ That was close. Maybe she’s not as smart as I fear (but that’s food for thought for a future column).
So there I was – in front of all those varieties of cereals contemplating how to wriggle out of yet another potential relationship-wrecking situation. As Frosted Krispies, Golden Puffs, Cap’n Crunch, Chocos, Fruit’n Fibre and a hundred other colorful boxes stared at me – mocking me – my mind went back to the time when I had first stepped off the plane. It was my second day here and we had still not set-up my kitchen. In no mood to make a McVisit, I decided to take my custom to Subway (they had not yet made their entry into India). As I confidently went to the girl (blondes were also new to me then) at the counter, I got a taste (literally) of something I was not used to – choice. (I’m talking about Subway sandwiches and not blondes.) Before I got my sandwich she asked me one question atop another – definitely not the one’s I would have liked to hear from her lips viz. the ‘your place or mine?’ variety – her queries were, sadly, closer to irritating than promising. Which bread? Size? Meat? Tomato? Cheese? Olives? Onion? Which Sauce? New to the concept of choice, I was at a loss.
And that, I realized, was only the beginning. Later, the same day, at the friendly neighbourhood Wal-Mart, the shock on seeing an aisle full of chocolates took me half an hour to recover from. And I needed another forty minutes to make the decision of which one to buy. So naturally, it was with trepidation that I approached the multiplicity that lay in wait for me in the milk, eggs and butter counters.
Everywhere it was choices, and even more choices. Though, over the years, I started enjoying the manifold options that lay at my disposal – supermarkets, brands, colors, sizes, types, prices and shapes. I began to enjoy my newfound consumer-king status and its concomitant power of getting exactly what I wanted. As if the world was tailor-made for me.
But it came at a cost. I realized something was amiss when I started spending too much time in front of biscuit aisles and cheese counters worrying about what to pick up (and again I’m not talking about blondes at Subway counters). Ironically, I was never content with whatever I chose – no matter how much time I spent researching – comparing prices, brands, products, or making sure I had the right ‘nutrition components’ mix, I was never fully satisfied with what I finally purchased.
I, who used to be gratified with one brand of butter, became demanding despite (or was it because of?) the availability of Land of Lakes, Breakstone’s, Challenge, Country Crock, and Horizon Organic. And brands were not the only factor – Regular, Light, Whipped, Flavored, Ultra Creamy, ‘With Calcium and Vitamins’, ‘With Omega-3’, With ‘Omega-6’. Not to mention the price range. All of this was more than what my grown-up-only-on-Amul brain could take.
So, as I stood wondering if life is better or complicated with so much of choice, I again looked towards the cereal boxes on that long aisle, hoping that somehow her favourite brand would magically make itself known to me. In such situations I missed my kirana shop where I would have, with a flourish, simply said, ‘bhaiyya, eik cornflakes ka packet dena’ and all would have been ok.
My mind wandered to the blonde at the subway counter – I wondered if she was still there.
