English 
हिन्दी 
One of the ironies of life is that the more we acquire, the more burdened it makes us feel. We are left with more to manage, navigate, overcome. We can become, in the words of JK Rowling’s wise accountant, little more than caretakers of our possessions (and ceaseless ambitions).
In a counter-narrative that bucks this trend, I have lately been hearing encouraging tales from people who have begun to let go of the excess, in ways that are helping them rediscover the truly essential.
Some days ago, a good friend of mine spoke of a seemingly mundane experience, in this context, that has stayed with me.
He had bought a new phone and encountered glitches while trying to transfer, from his old one, his staggering directory of 3,000 contacts. He tried over and over, and it simply wasn’t working. That’s when he decided to take a different path. He decided to manually enter the names of the 100 to 150 people who came to mind first. Those were the ones who genuinely mattered in his life, he reasoned.
I was aghast, when I first heard his tale. As a fellow writer who has built a vast network over time, didn’t he fear losing out? What of that massive network that he had taken such care to build?
“I haven’t missed a thing,” he said calmly.
It was a simple act, but it carried a profound lesson: by letting go of the excess, my friend was left with something more meaningful. He hadn’t just decluttered his phone; he had taken a step toward decluttering his life. In the process, he said he felt greater clarity, focus, even a sense of peace. Somewhere in his lived experience of our accumulation-obsessed culture, some fast-spinning wheels had stopped whirring.
His story reminded me of another narrative. I am currently reading a brilliant new book, The Money Trap: Grand Fortunes and Lost Illusions Inside the Tech Bubble, by Alok Sama, former chief financial officer at SoftBank. In the book, Sama offers a first-person account of the high-stakes world of finance that is both candid and funny.
In his younger days, the relentless chase of larger bonuses and comparisons with colleagues was a way of life. Until a moment of epiphany arrived. He began to think: “What for?” he writes.
After years of striving, he was ready to acknowledge that none of it had brought him the happiness or fulfilment he sought. So Sama chose to let go: of the comparisons, the endless pursuit, the need to outdo everyone around him. He decided to focus on what genuinely enriched his life: time with his wife, meaningful work, and moments of quiet joy.
Both Sama and my friend’s experiences challenge us to rethink a core idea that many of us are holding on to. Why should more — whether more contacts, more wealth or more achievements — equal happiness?
I believe the answer involves a simple trick of the mind: “More” is an easy, achievable goal. Even when we realise it isn’t the right one, we aren’t quite sure what to replace it with.
My submission: Aim for the invisible essentials: the moments of connection, the peace that comes with simplicity, the joy found in presence.
As one begins to embrace the philosophy of letting go, learn to ask: “Why?”
So that the next time one is faced with a choice, whether it involves buying a new gadget, taking on an extra project or adding yet another name to the contact list, one has got into the habit of quizzing the self: “What am I really gaining? What might I be losing in the process?”
Follow this trend of thought, and life gradually becomes richer, fuller and more meaningful. We begin to accumulate relationships that sustain us, passions that ignite us, moments of stillness that ground us.
And we can finally see that the ability to make this choice is the ultimate luxury today.
(Charles Assisi is co-founder of Founding Fuel. He can be reached on assisi@foundingfuel.com)
