When I first stepped into Bhubaneswar, I was carrying more than just my suitcase. I carried excitement, a little fear, and the feeling that this city was about to change me in ways I couldn’t yet imagine. I had heard people talk about Bhubaneswar being peaceful, green, and full of life. And yes, it was all of that. The auto rides, the smell of roadside chai, the fresh morning air near temples — it was all new and beautiful. But there was one thing I wasn’t prepared for — how easily money could disappear here if I didn’t pay attention.
I wasn’t a reckless spender by nature. I wasn’t out buying designer bags or booking spontaneous trips every weekend. But little by little, I began to notice that my balance was shrinking far faster than it should. At first, I blamed it on “settling in” costs. After all, moving to a new city means you spend on setting up your place, buying basic groceries, maybe getting a few clothes to suit the weather. But even after those initial weeks, I found myself thinking, “Where did my money go?”
The Early Struggle – When Small Spends Become Big Problems
The problem wasn’t one big purchase. It was the small, everyday things — the ones that don’t seem like a big deal at the time. An auto ride here, a takeaway coffee there, ordering dinner because I was too tired to cook, buying that one kurti just because it was on sale. The danger of these tiny spends is that they don’t feel like “real expenses” until they pile up. And oh, they do pile up.
I remember one particular week. I had told myself I’d spend very little. But then one evening I was tired and ordered a ₹250 meal online. The next day, my friend called me for a quick coffee — another ₹150 gone. Then there was an auto ride because it was raining — ₹120. By the weekend, a spontaneous visit to a clothing store added ₹600 to the list. None of these were “big” purchases. But by the end of the week, I had spent more than ₹1,500 without even realising it. That was the moment I understood — it’s the invisible leaks that sink the ship.
Learning to Prioritize – Needs vs. Wants
It took me a while to get honest with myself. I started writing down every single thing I spent on, no matter how small. At first, it was just out of curiosity, but within two weeks, I could see a pattern. A big chunk of my spending was going toward things I didn’t *need*. It wasn’t that I shouldn’t ever enjoy those things — life is meant to be lived, after all — but I realised I was saying “yes” to every temptation without thinking.
So, I made a rule for myself: **Before I spend, I ask, “Do I really need this?”** It sounds simple, but it’s surprisingly powerful. Sometimes I’d still say yes — because life’s too short to never have a cold coffee on a hot day — but more often than not, I found myself putting things back.
It wasn’t about depriving myself. It was about making sure that when I did spend, it was intentional. I started prioritizing needs: groceries, rent, essentials. Then, if there was leftover money, I could decide how to enjoy it without guilt.
The Power of Saying No – And Feeling Good About It
One of the hardest lessons I learned was that saying “no” doesn’t make you boring or stingy. In the beginning, I felt guilty turning down invitations or skipping outings. I worried friends would think I didn’t want to spend time with them. But soon, I realised that the people who truly matter will understand your choices.
Sometimes, I’d suggest budget-friendly alternatives instead. Instead of meeting at an expensive café, I’d invite friends over for homemade chai and snacks. Instead of taking an auto to every meet-up, I’d walk if it was nearby or take a shared ride. Surprisingly, many friends loved the change — it felt more personal and less about “where” we met, and more about just being together.
Saying no also gave me a quiet sense of control. Every time I turned down an unnecessary expense, I felt a small victory. It wasn’t about hoarding money — it was about knowing that I was making choices instead of being led by impulses.
Discovering Local Hacks – Bhubaneswar’s Budget-Friendly Secrets
One of the unexpected joys of Bhubaneswar is that you don’t have to spend a fortune to enjoy life here. Once I started looking, I found little hacks everywhere. Fresh vegetables from local markets were cheaper and fresher than supermarket ones. Street food — from piping hot chai to crispy pakoras — was not only budget-friendly but also gave me that feeling of being part of the city’s rhythm.
I also learned that walking or cycling not only saved money but also gave me a deeper connection with the place. I discovered tiny bookshops, quiet temples, and hidden cafés that I would’ve missed if I’d just zipped around in autos. And the best part? I wasn’t spending much at all.
The Emotional Side of Money – Guilt, Pride, and Self-Control
Money isn’t just numbers in an account. It’s deeply emotional. I realised that half of my spending wasn’t because I *needed* something, but because I was bored, stressed, or wanted a quick pick-me-up. That cup of coffee wasn’t really about the coffee — it was about taking a break from work. That online order wasn’t really about the dress — it was about the thrill of receiving a package.
The turning point came when I learned to separate my feelings from my spending. Instead of buying something every time I felt low, I’d take a walk, call a friend, or just watch a favourite movie. It didn’t always work, but slowly, I started feeling proud of my choices. Every time I resisted an impulse buy, I wasn’t just saving ₹200 — I was proving to myself that I could be in control.
Building Long-Term Habits – From Tracking to Thriving
What started as small adjustments slowly became habits. I kept tracking my expenses, not in a complicated spreadsheet, but in a simple notebook. At the end of each week, I’d total it up and see how I’d done. Some weeks were better than others, but the act of *checking* kept me aware.
I also started setting small savings goals. It wasn’t about saving huge amounts overnight, but about consistency. Even if it was just ₹500 a week, it added up. And over time, I started to see a small cushion in my account — something that had been missing before.
The best part? I didn’t feel deprived. I still went out with friends, still enjoyed my coffee, still bought the occasional kurti. The difference was that now, each of those things felt more special, because they were choices I made consciously, not just habits or impulses.
Conclusion – A New Relationship with Money
Moving to Bhubaneswar taught me more than how to navigate a new city. It taught me that money management isn’t about strict rules or never spending. It’s about awareness, intention, and balance. It’s about knowing when to say yes and when to say no. It’s about enjoying life’s pleasures without letting them control you.
Now, when I look at my account at the end of the month, I don’t feel that sinking “Where did it all go?” feeling. Instead, I feel calm. I know where my money went, why I spent it, and what I’ve saved. And that sense of control is worth more than any impulse purchase could ever give me.
