Days pass, but Man Midas never finds peace. The cave’s grandeur that once was his pride, fills him with dread. What was once a dream has transformed into a burden he can no longer carry easily. Every possession needs upkeep, every upgrade adds another brick to the invisible walls trapping him inside and every sunrise carries an anxiety: what if it all collapses? Midas runs harder simply to stand in the same place.

After observing Midas in silence, Alien Aurum turns to Monk Moneywise and murmurs, “Midas no longer builds a life. He looks like a prisoner, trapped inside the very cage he built.”

Monk Moneywise nods, “True Aurum, the trap begins when humans expand standard of living, blurring the line between need and luxury. Extravagance becomes ordinary and options necessities. A cycle turns into a bike which evolves into a small car to finally mature as a sedan.”

“With each upgrade, fuel cost, insurance premia and EMIs multiply quietly. Bigger homes turn bigger EMIs, posh schools bring higher fee, club memberships bills, household help is the norm, foreign holidays are rituals. Comfort slowly hardens into financial obligation. Though Midas’ income rises, even one interruption in earnings now threatens the entire life built around it.”

Alien Aurum asks in bewilderment, “Mr. Moneywise, if a family of two needs just a small place to eat and sleep, why do they spend entire lives paying for four or five big rooms?”

Imagined future

Gazing towards the distant human dwellings, Monk Moneywise whispers, “Homes disclose some of the deepest truths about human life. Humans build houses not just for today, but for imagined futures: visiting relatives, children who may settle abroad, grandchildren who may never arrive, prestige and the deep fear of appearing small before the society. The tragedy is rarely the size of the house, but the weight of the imagined future they purchase along with it.”

Alien Aurum interrupts, “Weight of the imagined future?”

Nodding gently, the monk explains, “Humans spend decades buying a house believing one day they will finally be relieved of monthly rental burdens. Yet, the irony shows itself years later. For instance, in the gated communities. Even after fully owning the flat, charges never truly stop. Whether the apartment is lived in, locked for months, or empty without tenants for years, maintenance charges continue arriving month on month, often running into several thousands. The tragedy deepens further with age.”

Alien Aurum cuts in and asks Monk Moneywise, “The tragedy deepens with age? How?”

Mr. Moneywise continues, “Aurum, many elderly residents no longer regularly use the swimming pools, clubhouses or luxury amenities they once proudly paid for, yet the maintenance charges never disappear. During salaried years, these costs appear harmless. But after retirement, the shock slowly emerges. They now have to keep paying significant money monthly simply to continue living inside a house they already fully own but not fully use.”

Buried exhaustion

Years of buried exhaustion suddenly erupt through Midas. “Enough of your theories and sermons! It’s been years of struggle and do you know what all I have sacrificed to build all these? Missed family moments, sleepless nights, health slowly breaking down, dreams postponed and what not. It’s easy for you to mock me. But how can I simply walk away? If I let go of this life, then what is all that pain even for? Every sleepless night and every sacrifice goes into bins? We cannot bleed for something our entire lives and then simply let it go.”

Now Master Time interrupts saying, “That pain you cannot let go of, Midas, has a name. Behavioural economists call it the sunk-cost fallacy: humans often stay trapped in lives that no longer bring joy because leaving feels like erasing every sacrifice once made to build them.”

Crucial questions

Time’s voice echoes across the silent valley, “Before every upgrade ask yourself: Can I sustain this if my income falls? Will this matter to me ten years from now? Am I buying this for need or status? What are the recurring charges even after the excitement fades? Am I buying for the present life or the imagined future? Am I here because I want this life, or because leaving it now feels too costly? If Midas had asked these questions before every purchase, he would have built a life not a cage and the golden handcuffs would never have found a wrist to bind itself upon.”

(The writer is an NISM & CRISIL-certified Wealth Manager and certified in NISM’s Research Analyst module)

Published on June 1, 2026