When I read the daily post prompt of the day, Extravagant, I was strangely drawn towards many memories at once: my carefree childhood, the green-eyed monster’s attack on me when I saw a friend’s honeymoon pictures (FYI, she went to Paris), and a wave of frustration that hit me when I knew that I’ll have to turn down an opportunity to attend London Fashion Week.

My carefree childhood memories are filled with not bothering about what others were doing. I cannot remember if I ever noticed what brand the girl/boy next to me was wearing. All I remember are the moments that made me laugh. For instance, my best memory is how I, my sister, and my two cousins (yes, total four people) used to hop on one bicycle and happily go for a long ride. I don’t remember how expensive that bicycle was. In fact, I don’t even remember the color of the bicycle. We couldn’t even bother to give any thought to what other people might be thinking about four weirdos torturing one bicycle. Before you think that we were not demanding kids, I must stop you right there. Oh, we were so demanding but our demands were untouched by the influence of “trending topics.” We were too busy inventing games and unintentionally tormenting our parents and grandparents.

Fast forward to the year 2014 or 2015. I had been studying the French language for a few months and, in my head, I thought I was Europe-ready; what I was not ready for my friend to get married and go off to Paris on her honeymoon. I was devastated. I believed that I was cursed or worse. How could she live my dream while I am sitting here getting Europe-Ready? Right now, I feel like a fool just writing about it but at that time, I was an inconsolable mess. I blamed everyone and even God, but when I really sat down to reflect on what awakened such weird reaction, I was embarrassed by my immaturity. I might have been ready to travel to Europe, but as long as I was not ready to embrace the life that I had been blessed with, I would remain inconsolable for one reason or another. Deep down I knew — and still, know — that I am not attracted toward any country or continent, then what was making me so mad? The answer was I had unknowingly participated in a race of showing off on social media. I wanted the green-eyed monster to get off my back and ride somebody else. I craved to click awesome pictures and make my own friends and acquaintances jealous. As soon as this realization dawned on me, I took a social media break to get back to my roots. It helped!

The third event is the most recent one — just two days back to be precise. I have a super awesome acquaintance who has achieved so much in a few years. I am her fan. Anyway, she had been given an opportunity to not only attend London fashion week but also bring a few of her friends/acquaintances with her. Of course, I approached her, and I was ecstatic when she told me that she would love for me to join her. However, my happiness had the shortest life in the history of short lives. She told me that I would need to pay 2.5L INR to the organizers. It’s not that big amount if you are planning to go to Europe; however, I felt frustrated for some reason. Why couldn’t I just pay the money and join her? I could not get the answer. The logical answer was known to me. I do not crave for an extravagant life; I crave for memories and good company. Maybe, I wasn’t sure if spending my savings on this extravagant trip would be worth it, but I directed my frustration on everything and everyone. I had always gotten good grades and I deserved better. Didn’t I? I have a tendency to blame God for everything that’s wrong in my life and this time was no different. Fortunately, I got back to my senses and realized that I did not earn this trip and that’s why I was getting frustrated just thinking about it.

Well, long story short, these days the influence of the extravagant lives of others tends to get us carried away into a dark path. We try to imitate others without understanding whether this is what our heart really craves for. What if in my quest to make others look up to me I am leaving a piece of “the real me” far behind? What if I made everybody jealous but in that rat race I am unable to recognize myself? An extravagant life may be a lonely path; are we truly ready to lose even our own selves to walk on that glittering yet lonely road? If I have lost my own identity, then what is left even if I am standing at the top of the world? If my happiness lies in just stopping to smell the roses (or any flower for that matter), does it make a difference if I am doing this act here in my own country or crossed many seas to experience the same pleasure? It does if a voice inside of me tells me that the roses of that other place would help me learn something new or awaken sensations that I never knew even existed; however, that voice should be pure and not influenced by a desire to show off.