The pain of rising prices

I live between London and Lahore. These are two very different cities, separated by thousands of miles, with different histories, cultures and ways of life. Yet, there is one thing that increasingly connects them: the rising cost of living.

In both cities, life is becoming more expensive. Rent takes a large part of people’s income. Food costs more than it used to. Transport, electricity and other daily needs continue to put pressure on household budgets. People work hard, earn money and try to manage their expenses, but many find that their income does not go as far as it once did.

What hurts me most is not simply the rising cost of living. It is the way people respond to it.

In London and Lahore, I hear people talking about mehangai, the Urdu word for inflation. They complain about expensive groceries, high rents, fuel prices and bills. They discuss these problems with friends, colleagues, relatives and neighbours. Almost every gathering offers another story of financial pressure.

Yet, after all this talk, life goes on as usual.

People complain, shake their heads and return to their routines. The same problems remain, and the same conversations begin again the next day. There is plenty of anger, but very little collective action to demand change.

I often wonder why.

In France, thousands of people have taken to the streets to protest against rising prices and the growing pressure on ordinary households. The protests have sometimes turned violent, with shops damaged, businesses looted and clashes between demonstrators and police. The French government has faced difficult questions about public order and its response to the unrest.

Violence and looting are not the answer to economic problems. Small businesses and ordinary workers should not have to pay the price for public anger. But the protests also show something important: people are no longer willing to keep their frustration inside their homes.

The question is why people in other cities, including London and Lahore, so often stop at talking.

I do not believe that every problem requires a street protest. Nor do I think that every government can control all prices. International conflicts, energy costs, housing shortages and wider economic changes can affect countries in different ways. But governments still have a duty to protect ordinary people, explain their decisions and make policies that ease the pressure on families.

Citizens also have a role to play. They can organise peacefully, raise their voices, question elected representatives, support campaigns for fairer policies and demand clear answers. They can use their votes and work with others to seek change.

The trouble is that many people have begun to accept expensive living as a normal part of life. They may complain about a rent increase today and adjust their budgets tomorrow. They may criticise the government over dinner but never write to their representative or join a peaceful campaign. Slowly, frustration becomes a habit rather than a force for change.

Perhaps people are too busy surviving to find the time to challenge the conditions in which they live. Perhaps they fear losing their jobs, facing social pressure or discovering that their efforts will achieve little. In Lahore, economic insecurity can make speaking out difficult. In London, the pressures of work, rent and family responsibilities can leave people with little energy for public action.

These are real concerns, and I do not want to judge people who are already struggling.

Still, I believe silence has a cost. When people do not demand answers, leaders may feel less pressure to act. When citizens treat every price increase as something they must simply accept, the burden can become heavier with time.

Living between London and Lahore has made me think about how much ordinary people share, despite their differences. They want secure homes, affordable food, reliable transport and enough money to live with dignity. They want their children to have better opportunities and their hard work to mean something.

These are not unreasonable demands. They are the basic expectations of a decent life.

My concern is that people in both cities talk endlessly about mehangai but rarely turn their shared frustration into peaceful, organised action. Complaints may bring temporary relief, but they do not, by themselves, change public policy.

I do not want to see London or Lahore descend into violence. I want to see citizens become more active, informed and united in demanding fair treatment.

A society does not become stronger when people stop complaining. It becomes stronger when they turn their complaints into clear demands and pursue them through peaceful and democratic means.

The price of living may be rising in both cities. The more painful question is whether ordinary people will continue to pay that price quietly, or find the courage to ask why life has become so difficult and what can be done to make it better.