Editor’s note:
As I was speaking to Rohit about his piece, I came across a tweet about someone putting in their savings into their marriage. The person was Dravisha Katoch, a 20-something year old in one of the hottest fields in the country. As someone who has three different FDs, I naturally had to ask her about her decision. One thing led to another, and we were having a rambling conversation about how GenZ in India treats money and salaries. With India’s demographic dividend changing, I can’t help wondering if this signals a marked shift in how working India treats money. And while I’m sure there are exceptions to every norm, every trend seems to point to a generation more intentional with how they’re spending their money. And while time will tell if this relationship settles into median behavior as one grows older, this is a story that to be told.

The tweet, the decision, the rebuild

You know that moment when a plan becomes a decision. Mine arrived on a quiet afternoon, three months before my wedding last year. I turned to my husband and said, this is the goal I have been saving for since I was 17. If not this, then what? We chose a small wedding and a 14-day cruise I had dreamt about since childhood Titanic afternoons on TV. I moved my savings, watched the balance drop, and felt strangely steady. I had just turned 25 and used all my savings for my wedding. That choice was not about one wedding. It was about the way I have built my relationship with money, and how many of us are learning to balance savings with memories. To explain, let me take you back.

My parents’ script: joy first, plan later

My father was one year into serving the armed forces on a four-digit salary when my parents married. Saving was not a habit, it was a luxury. When money loosened, they spent on what they had gone without. We travelled across India with each new posting. My mother collected handwoven sarees and jewellery from every region we visited. Our money rarely sat in accounts. It moved through train compartments, bazaars and family meals.

We do not own a house today. Beyond the usual insurance policies, there is no generational corpus or assets waiting for me. Yet my parents are the happiest couple I know. Their wealth lived in memories and in the intimacy of shared experience. Watching them taught me something I still believe: money is not only for protection. It is also permission to live.

Growing up in a joy-first home shaped me in two opposite and useful ways. I inherited their ease with spending on experiences that make life bigger. It also lit a fire to save. I started earning at 17, tracked every rupee, learnt where my money slept at night, and built small guardrails that made me feel steady. Not out of fear. Out of choice. Planning gave me permission.

So when I funded my wedding plans alongside my parents, I did not feel reckless. I felt ready.

Spend on purpose -> Dip on purpose -> Rebuild on purpose. That loop has always been my rhythm.

Two clocks I now keep

I think of my life as running on two clocks. One is compounding money. The other is compounding memories. My parents prioritised the second clock and built a home that still glows. I run both. I let the memory clock ring loudly at dinner, and I let the money clock tick quietly in the background while SIPs do their work.

But compounding money for me has never been just about SIPs. It also shaped how I worked. In college, my days were lectures and my evenings were part-time jobs. I missed out on a lot of the social life my peers had, but by the time I graduated, I had already worked with startups, skipped placements, and knew exactly what I wanted to chase. That head start gave me confidence and carved a chip on my shoulder: if I didn’t work hard, money wouldn’t grow. Career and money were inseparable in my mind. Over time, that equation has matured.

I no longer measure value in hours worked, but in growth – am I learning faster, am I building skills that compound, am I getting better at the things that matter to me? That realisation has been freeing: money follows growth, not just grind.

And it is not just me. The ET Snapchat Gen Z Index reports that 73% of Gen Z respondents save at least 30% of their income every month. At first glance that sounds extreme, but it reflects the same instinct I grew up with - start early, build buffers, and let discipline create freedom. Our generation may spend differently, but beneath the surface we are quietly compounding. What I see coming next is cultural, not technical: we will stop treating 'joy' as leakage and start writing it into budgets as a legitimate line item. That way, the memory clock is intentional, not accidental.

If you feel torn between the big trip and the buffer, you are not confused. You are modern. The work is not to choose one clock forever. It is to let both keep time.

The Gen Z turn: YOLO, but planned

People love to label my generation as capricious. They call us the YOLO generation. Look closer and you will see something else. We book the concert and we keep the SIP. We spend on weddings, travel and hobbies because meaning matters now, and we automate investments because freedom matters later.

That same philosophy shows up in how I approach work. For me, YOLO but planned means I am not afraid of risk - moving cities, joining early-stage teams, or taking roles that stretch me far beyond my comfort zone. The guardrails are always there: a savings buffer, a shared view of our household money goals, and the confidence that we can refill if needed. Within those boundaries, I go all in. I am not stressed about when I will buy a house or a car. I know those milestones will come. What matters more is whether the work I choose is making me grow.

And you can see that same mindset in how my peers handle money. WSA notes that about 40% of all new demat accounts in India are opened by investors under 30. On PhonePe’s Share.Market, nearly half of mutual fund investors are aged 18-30. We are not waiting to “grow up” before taking financial risks - we are doing it in parallel with career risks. And because most of us are entering through SIPs and platforms rather than tip-offs, the default is long-term. That tells me the real Gen Z superpower is not YOLO, it is YOLO with a plan: take the bet, but keep the guardrails.

Money for us is less about status, and less about hoarding for a faraway day. It is permission. Permission to say yes to what lights you up, and yes to what keeps you steady next month.

A woman’s lens: caution as courage

Being Gen Z and a woman means I straddle two scripts at once. On one side, people assume my generation is all impulse and YOLO - that we spend without thinking about tomorrow. On the other, women are still expected to be cautious to the point of self-denial - save, do not invest, be practical, not ambitious. That clash shows up in small moments. Relatives still ask why I do not just invest in gold, as if that alone were safety. Friends are surprised when they learn I am already investing towards long-term goals and mapping my life around money choices. In both cases, the subtext is the same: you are either too cautious, or too bold.

But the numbers show something more nuanced. Gen Z women in India are becoming increasingly smart with money - over 56% are now actively monitoring their credit and 44% saw their credit scores improve within six months (CNBC-TV18, 2025). In Tier 3 cities, 42% of young women save more than 30% of their income (Economic Times, 2024), a level of discipline that challenges the idea of “YOLO spending.” At the same time, women continue to favour insurance and secure investments, reflecting a collective tilt toward long-term financial planning. These patterns reveal not recklessness, but a careful balancing act between ambition and protection.

The stereotype that women are “too cautious” lingers, but the reality is shifting. Take investing: an SBI report (Dec 2024) notes that since 2021 India has added roughly 30 million new demat accounts annually, and about 25% of these are held by women. To me, that is not just participation, it is proof of mindset shift. Women are no longer content to save “just in case”; they are learning to build, to own, and to take upside. Digital onboarding dropped the gatekeeping, workplaces began talking openly about ESOPs, and women-led communities made money conversations social rather than secret. The next move I expect is titling by default: more women putting their names on assets, nominations and policies as standard practice. That is how caution becomes courage. 

Caution is not joyless. Prudence funds pleasure. You can keep an emergency fund and still buy yourself the extravagant thing after a milestone. You can upgrade your health cover and still book the ticket. Keep your name on your freedom. Insurance, nominations, ESOPs, deeds. Confidence sometimes arrives not in a bonus or a raise, but in the calm of knowing your nominations and wills are in order.

The three dials I adjust

Instead of rules, I keep a small mixing board in my head with three dials.

Safety. Emergency buffer, insurance, recurring SIPs that leave my account within two days of salary credit.
‍Joy. Weddings, concerts, hobbies, trips that make me feel more alive when I return than when I left.
Optionality. Skills, networks, ESOP literacy, side income, the ability to move cities or roles without panic.

My parents had Joy high, Safety low, Optionality low because the world offered fewer levers. I keep Safety firm, Joy intentional, Optionality rising. 

The dials shift by season. Last year I turned Joy up for the wedding, held Safety, and raised Optionality through income and skills.

Across my peers, I see Optionality becoming the quiet edge: portable skills and equity upside rather than a single postcode and a single employer.

If you are standing in the same paradox

You may not need a new personality. You may need a clearer picture. Sit down once with a fee-only wealth planner and see your life on a single page. Your minimum safe number. Your version of plenty. The checkpoints in between. Clarity quietens the drama and turns vague fear into choices.

Automate the boring. Even if you start small, set a percentage that leaves in the first two days of the month. I started with investing ₹500 every month from my internship stipend of ₹2,500, and it is the best decision I made as a 17-year-old. Mutual funds before direct shares if you are starting out. Learn just enough language to ask good questions. People who automate early rarely switch it off. That is how the money clock keeps time while you live your life.

Write your joy(s) into the budget. Not a leak, a line item. That line keeps you honest with yourself and kinder to your future self. 

Closing the loop

That afternoon, three months before the wedding, did not feel like a cliff. It felt like a choice I had been saving for. My parents taught me joy. I taught myself the plan. And work became the place where I learnt to run both clocks - growing skills for tomorrow while still collecting the memories that make life feel worth it today.

If you grew up in a house like mine, you already know the truth I landed on. Money is not the point. Money is the permission slip. It lets you build memories worth carrying and futures worth stepping into. You can be careful with money and generous with life. You can love compounding and still pick joy today. 

You do not have to choose between money or memories. You can choose a life where they make each other possible.