🟧 The RO Filter Failed. So Did My Faith in the System.
Last week, my AO Smith RO purifier stopped working. ⚠️
Now, you'd think I'd be furious at the system that made me rely on a ₹20,000 machine just to drink water safely. But no. I was upset because the repair guy was taking too long.
Not because my right to clean water was denied. But because my paid workaround failed.
My brain didn’t go:
“Why am I buying basic hydration in 2025?”
It went:
“Ugh, what kind of service delay is this?! I pay for AMC!”
This, ladies and gentlemen, is the great middle-class glitch: We’re not disappointed in the government anymore — we’re just annoyed when our survival subscription lags.
🟩 Middle-Class India: Now Streaming on a Survival Subscription
We’ve outsourced everything we were supposed to demand.
🚰 Clean water → RO machine
💨 Fresh air → Dyson purifier
⚡ Power → Inverter + generator
🧹 Clean streets → Private garbage pickup
👮 Safety → CCTV, guards, pepper spray, God
We’re not citizens anymore. We’re “Survival-as-a-Service” subscribers.
And it’s not even premium. It’s broken, buggy, and comes with 500 ml of boiled trauma.
🧠 Stat: 62% of Indian urban households rely on water purifiers (NSSO 2022) — not because they want to, but because they have to.
We’re paying for what was promised as a right — and thanking brands for doing the bare minimum.
✨ What’s in Your Middle-Class Emergency Kit? 🧰
Here’s what an average Indian household keeps ready — not for a natural disaster, but for everyday living:
-
✅ Spare RO filter cartridge
-
✅ Inhaler (because Delhi)
-
✅ Vitamin C, D, Zinc (our immune system’s holy trinity)
-
✅ Pollution mask (stylish, reusable, washable, trauma-infused)
-
✅ Inverter manual + power backup
-
✅ A deep, unsettling feeling of being scammed by the system
-
✅ A quick joke about it to feel better
We’re not paranoid. We’re just chronically adapting. With Prime delivery.
🟨 Welcome to Delhi, Where AQI Is a Mood and a Murderer 😷
In Delhi NCR, air quality is basically an invisible villain with a calendar.
Summer? Dust.
Winter? Smog.
Monsoon? Fungus.
Spring? LOL there’s no spring, just mild lung collapse.
We now have weather small talk like this:
“How’s the AQI today?”
“Not too bad… only 320.”
“Oh that’s fine, I took my inhaler.”
🧠 Fact: Delhi recorded an AQI of 485 (Hazardous) on Diwali 2024. That’s not air. That’s an open invitation to an ICU bed.
Our coping mechanisms?
-
₹25,000 air purifiers that hum louder than our anxiety
-
Anti-pollution face masks that look like alien cosplay
-
Plants we pretend are purifying anything besides our guilt
We’re not breathing. We’re bargaining.
🟦 Public Health Is Missing. Please Try After Some Time. 📵
Try filing a complaint about water or air quality.
Now try ordering a new purifier on Amazon.
Guess which one gets delivered?
We’ve been algorithm-trained to expect better service from Flipkart than from the public works department.
We don’t file RTIs. We file support tickets.
We don’t demand rights. We demand coupon codes.
“Your grievance has been noted”
VS
“Sir your technician is on the way, please rate us 5 stars ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐”
🧠 Stat: India ranks 120 out of 180 in the Environmental Performance Index (EPI) for air quality (Yale, 2024). And yet, our rage is directed at brands — not the ones responsible for the rot.
✨ Middle-Class Rage Is Just Passive-Aggression Now 😑
We don’t fight anymore. We file polite complaints with bad grammar.
“Dear Sir, this is not acceptable. Kindly do the needful.”
“Hello? It’s been 3 days. Please fix.”
We’re not apathetic. We’re exhausted.
The middle-class doesn’t rebel. We just quietly fume, tag @support, and order a new one.
🟪 The Only Thing That’s Free Is PM2.5 ☠️
There’s a certain class guilt layered into all this.
In rural India, people walk miles for water. In cities, we complain when our purifier app shows “TDS too high.”
“Bro, I think my membrane is expired.”
“Dude, try the Kent with UV. The water tastes like apathy, but it works.”
Whether it’s tankers, refills, or bottled water — we’ve accepted the hustle.
🧠 Report: Over 2 lakh water tankers operate in Delhi during summers. Clean water is a commodity now — and if you can’t afford it, you’re just expected to boil and move on.
It’s a daily crisis. Just delivered with better packaging.
🟥 Our Water Tastes of Chlorine and Complacency 💀
We’ve trained ourselves to despise tap water but accept everything around it.
We hate the taste, but we’ll never ask why it’s still unsafe.
We’ll complain about “plasticky Bisleri” and then order two crates for the wedding.
We’ll pay for a water subscription and tell guests proudly:
“Yes yes, ours is RO. Tastes better than municipal.”
💡 The real taste of privilege isn’t water. It’s not having to think about where it came from.
And if you do think about it, well — that’s why therapy costs extra.
🟫 Children of PM2.5: Raised by Filters and False Comforts 🧒
Today’s kids don’t know clean air. They know Air Quality Index apps.
Their lullabies are purifier hums. Their school holidays are AQI-triggered.
They wear masks for pollution, not protection.
They’ve grown up thinking breathing fresh air is a weekend activity.
“Mumma, remember that trip to Mussoorie where I could breathe?”
“Yes beta, that’s called oxygen.”
🧠 WHO data: 98% of Indian children breathe air that exceeds pollution safety limits. But hey — at least we bought them the smart purifier, right?
We’re raising kids on vitamins, immunity boosters, and delusion.
The future isn’t clean. It’s HEPA-filtered.
✨ How We Gaslight Ourselves Into Gratitude 🙃
Every time we feel anger, we silence it with a toxic dose of “at least.”
“At least we have water.”
“At least we’re in a metro city.”
“At least we can afford the purifier.”
This isn’t gratitude. It’s resignation wearing a self-care mask.
We don’t demand better anymore. We just lower our expectations and call it emotional maturity.
🟧 Thank You for Surviving. Please Rate Your Repair ⭐
Of course, the engineer fixed my AO Smith. He came, he replaced the filter, I thanked him like he was god’s own plumber, and I gave him a glowing review.
And that was it.
No questions asked about why I needed the purifier in the first place.
No outrage at why clean drinking water isn’t a given.
Just satisfaction that my subscription was back on track.
Because in India, we don’t expect dignity. We expect next-day delivery.
We’ll pay for what should be free.
We’ll breathe whatever poisons come our way.
And yes — we’ll still say thank you.
Not to the government.
To the app.
To the delivery guy.
To the illusion of safety.
Because in middle-class India, survival isn’t a right.
It’s an annual plan.
And the auto-debit has already gone through. 💳
