We all have heard stories about how our ancestors lived in villages with huge front yards and back yards. Most of them had farmlands, orchards, and gardens. Many of them also had farm animals, poultry, ducks, cows, buffaloes, and goats. Some had ponds full of fish. Those who were really rich also had horses and even elephants.

Our ancestors ate fruits and vegetables mostly grown in their backyards. They also often ate crops from their land and ate organic fish and chicken. Back in those days, most villages had a barter system. So if something was not grown in their garden, they borrowed it from neighbors.

As a child, I loved the winter months. We used to come down from our home in the hills and stay with my grandparents. My maternal grandparent’s home was small yet they had a nice front yard with quite a few tall trees. I particularly remember the Neem tree that always stood proudly. I call their home “small.” However, it was five times the size of my current flat in this posh Mumbai neighborhood.

My paternal grandmother’s home was my favorite abode. It was huge with a big garden. There were lots of flowers, fruits, and vegetables grown in our zameen. I loved waking up in the morning and going and plucking flowers from the garden with my grandma. After plucking flowers, she used to offer those flowers to the deities in her wooden temple. Before breakfast, we used to go and pluck vegetables from the garden. Leafy green vegetables were carefully cut with a small knife, while smaller bitter gourds were gently torn from the creepers. Root vegetables like potatoes and sweet potatoes had to be dug out from the earth. To harvest raw jackfruit, bananas, or mangoes, we had to climb the branches. Each vegetable had its own unique method of harvesting, making the entire process both varied and fascinating.

While cooking, both Ma and Grandma made sure nothing went to waste. Raw banana peels were ground on a sil patta, mixed with mustard paste, green chilies, and coconut, and enjoyed with hot rice. Potato peels were fried into crispy, crunchy snacks, while raw mango peels were transformed into tangy chutney. Nearly everything found a purpose, hardly anything was ever wasted.

We didn’t have a cow but our neighbors had. After breakfast, I accompanied my Aunt to the neighbor’s house and got milk from them. There was a pond full of fish. Before lunch was prepared, my uncle would wrap a gamcha around his waist. He would then head out with a net to catch fish. Taking a fish out of the water was one thing, but killing it was no easy task. I still vividly remember my mother struggling to cut a live fish using a boti, the traditional Bengali cutting tool. I loved the afternoons. We used to get seasonal fruits from our orchard. We ate them as a post-lunch dessert.

Our grandparents wanted us to do better in life. Therefore, they sent us to the best educational institutions. They wanted us to get better jobs. They hoped we would live a comfortable life. We all did good. Some of the uncles, aunts, and cousins shifted abroad. Others moved to metropolitan Indian cities like Mumbai, Delhi, and Bangalore. Now my question is are we really doing better than our grandparents?

Cut to the modern day. Most of us (barring the few living in the US) live in apartments with no front yard, backyard, or huge terraces. I feel like I am the worst since my flat doesn’t even have a balcony. My cousins who live in other cities at least have a balcony. Ironically, my house is the most expensive in terms of square feet (Not flexing, Mumbai real estate you see!). So is this progress?

I struggle to find organic produce. I quite literally pay through the nose for it. Meanwhile, my grandparents simply walked into their garden. They plucked fresh vegetables easily. I get milk from a packet. I often question its purity. They simply strolled over to their neighbor’s house. They chatted and watched fresh milk being taken straight from the cow.

I can’t help but question this so-called progress. Sometimes, it feels like we’ve fallen into a trap. We sought a “better” life. We sold our ancestral homes and land. We moved to crowded cities. Now we live in smaller homes. We eat pesticide-infested vegetables. We drink milk that is obtained after injecting the cattle. We have no clean air to breathe. We cannot sleep at night due to stress. We pay for exercises at the gym. We are always buying medicines as our health is not as good as theirs. We cannot go anywhere without getting stuck in traffic. We have no family time as we are always glued to the screen. Yet we say we did better than our grandparents. Isn’t this funny? We made our lives unnecessarily stressful, all in the name of advancement.

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Now, as I embrace slow living. I distance myself from hustle culture. I find myself longing for a simpler, more grounded life. I dream of going back. I want to grow my own garden like my grandma did. Many of my friends are also now doing the same. I think of the ancestral home we gave up. I think of the land we gave up. I feel a deep sense of loss. It was all for a so-called better future. They didn’t need gym memberships to stay active; their daily lives provided all the exercise they needed. They ate fresh, organic food without hunting for labels or paying a premium. With less stress, they slept better. They laughed more. They spent real, quality time with their loved ones, not glued to screens. They could watch their grandkids grow in front of them. They didn’t have to interact over video calls or wait for an annual visit. And yet, we convince ourselves that we are the ones who are truly thriving.

Do you disagree or do you also feel that we fell into a trap?

Joining Vinitha‘s two hundredth and thirty-ninth edition of Fiction Monday with the word prompt Trap.