Am I the only one who is feeling this way? Or are all of you sensing that things are not as hunky dory as we are expected to believe? Small indicators are telling that things are not as prosperous and growing as they should be. I am not against online shopping or e-commerce. But online shopping is killing one thing, and that is the sense of community we once had. There is no personal touch, no matter what the advertisements say.
I am an old-school woman. Before all these grocery apps bombarded our lives with convenience and laziness, our lives were different. I had a milkman who came and dropped off the milk packet at wee hours. We spoke for a while about the weather. On hotter days, we complained about how hot and humid it was. On colder days, we spoke about how it was getting colder. I knew his name; he called me Bhabi. And we shared a bond. After COVID, he stopped coming, and now I buy milk through an app. Unlike my old milkman, these app delivery guys do not ring the doorbell, and I don’t know who comes and delivers my milk.
There was a breadwala whom all of us in the society used to wait for in the morning. He came and sold bread, eggs, chips, brownies, and other farsaan. He came at a fixed time, and I often kept my toaster ready right before he arrived. I knew his name; he called me Bhabi. He knew my preferred type of bread. The kids got excited to buy chips and other junk food from him. He knew I would get angry if the kids bought too much junk, so before giving it to them, he always asked me if he should sell it. Some days, if a child had a sore throat, he would himself refuse to sell junk and warmly say, “I’ll give you the chips once your throat gets better.”

The app doesn’t care if anyone has a sore throat. No matter how AI-enabled these apps are, they will never chide a child for eating junk food with a sore throat. The breadwala still comes, but he hardly has any more patrons left in our society. The other day, he shared his sorrow and told me that he is planning to quit this business and start driving auto rickshaws. They have been doing this business for two generations and now he has to end it.
Every year, before Diwali, the market near my house used to have grand Diwali decorations with lights adorning the streets. The entire area sparkled, and it felt so joyous and festive. This year, there were no lights or decorations. The shopkeeper’s association couldn’t decorate due to a lack of funds. Most brick-and-mortar shops in the market are not making enough profit, so they can’t contribute. The darkness before Diwali felt symbolic.
I frequently visit a bookshop in my locality—the only bookshop left within a 10-kilometre radius. Earlier, the father ran the shop; after his untimely demise, his young son took over. The bookshop has a very good collection of books. However, these days, they are struggling to keep it running. The young man is worried that he may not be able to carry on for long. I also feel worried. I love visiting the shop to browse through a few pages of interesting books, explore new arrivals, and touch and feel the books. The shop always smells of new books, but some corners also smell of old ones. I love that smell. The shop owner knows the kind of books I love. He often comes up to me, hands me a book with a smile, and says, “I think you’ll like this one.”
The grocery shops in our locality used to have thriving businesses. They knew us, our requirements, and always gave prompt service. They had delivery boys who were friendly and always asked how we were doing. Now, with these grocery apps, every day a new face arrives to deliver, and there is no familiarity. They come, deliver, and leave. Unlike the local grocery delivery boys, they never chit-chat. I still order from local groceries—it is my feeble attempt to keep them running.
The apps have their own stories. I am scared for myself and for the lives of delivery boys who rush on their bikes to deliver. They have strict deadlines and often break traffic signals. They don’t get paid properly. The sharks who run these apps earn millions, but the delivery boys—who are the backbone of this industry—hardly make any money. Worse still, so many highly educated boys are doing these menial jobs. I have come across multiple Uber and Rapido drivers who are engineers. They say they get paid more driving rented cars than working in engineering jobs. Imagine what a waste of time, skill, education, and money.
There were quite a few pre-schools in our locality that also went out of business. Regular schools are finding it difficult to enrol students. They are hiring marketing departments just to attract admissions. Layoffs have become common, and it has been normalized. There is no action from the government to regulate layoffs. Every corporate employee goes to the office with an underlying fear that this could be their last day.
And amidst all these, Instagram gurus are minting money exploiting the insecurities of people. They are teaching manifestation, chakra, tarot, chanting, and whatnot.

Perhaps this is just a transitional phase in human civilization. As we know that change is the only constant and this is that. Are you relating to this? Or do you have a different perspective?