A growing story is the "Rurban" (Rural + Urban) lifestyle. Young professionals, post-pandemic, are migrating back to Tier-2 and Tier-3 cities (like Indore, Coimbatore, or Jaipur). They seek lower living costs and cleaner air but demand urban amenities (high-speed internet, cloud kitchens, co-working spaces). This has birthed a culture of homegrown cafes and organic farming collectives.
Despite the skyscrapers and the fintech startups, India remains a collection of villages at heart. This is visible during Raksha Bandhan, the festival of sibling bonds.
Last August, I watched a 34-year-old investment banker in Mumbai tie a sacred thread around his sister’s wrist. Thirty seconds later, he checked his stock portfolio on an iPhone 16. His sister, a lawyer, fed him a piece of kaju katli (cashew fudge) with one hand while drafting a legal notice with the other.
The ritual took three minutes. The love—and the bickering—lasted the rest of the day. kerala desi mms hot
This duality is exhausting for visitors. "Why is there a wedding procession blasting techno-bhangra at 11 PM on a Tuesday?" they ask. Because it is muhurat (an auspicious time dictated by the priest’s almanac). "Why is the entire city of Mumbai shut down for Ganesh Chaturthi?" Because the elephant-headed god is coming home, and you don’t keep your deity waiting.
Lifestyle in India is written on the plate. And the plate is changing.
The old story: A thali—a steel platter with small bowls for dal (lentils), sabzi (vegetables), roti (bread), chawal (rice), dahi (yogurt), and a sticky, sugar-soaked gulab jamun. A growing story is the "Rurban" (Rural + Urban) lifestyle
The new story: The same thali, but with quinoa replacing rice, avocado replacing the seasonal local greens, and oat milk in the chai.
In Bengaluru, the "Silicon Valley of India," a war is brewing. Traditional tiffin services (dabbawalas who deliver home-cooked lunch) are losing customers to "cloud kitchens" selling keto biryani and gluten-free idlis. Yet, paradoxically, the most popular delivery item during the recent monsoon floods was khichdi (a mushy rice-lentil porridge)—the ultimate comfort food that your grandmother fed you when you had a fever.
We have iPhones, but we still want our mother’s khichdi. This has birthed a culture of homegrown cafes
A significant lifestyle story is the battle against misinformation. Morning chai (tea) sessions now involve fact-checking forwarded voice notes. Startups like Logically and local fact-checking collectives have become part of the daily digital hygiene routine.
A quiet revolution is happening in dining and dating. "Caste-based food taboos" are being challenged. Stories of "Beef Fest" in Kerala colleges, inter-caste kitchen collectives, and Dalit food writers reclaiming forgotten recipes (like kale curry) are reshaping the narrative of what "Indian culture" eats.