How Urban Liberalism Became Just Another Filter: Sepia Tones, Sufi Quotes, and Daddy’s Money

Once upon a brunch in Bandra, liberalism was discussed between two people who’d never used public transport.

Gone are the days when liberalism meant dissent, danger, or having your phone tapped by the state. Today, it’s a vibe. It lives in filtered Instagram carousels, chai-in-copper-cups aesthetics, and captions like “I seek peace, not power” posted by someone whose dad runs a cement monopoly.

From Revolution to Reels: The Great Filterization of Ideology

What was once Che Guevara is now chai-scented minimalism.
The modern-day “urban liberal” doesn’t storm streets — they storm stories. Protests are optional, but attending an indie film screening on "Dalit Trans Resistance through Crochet" is mandatory (only if it comes with wine).

These are the people who will quote Faiz while sipping ₹700 coffee, nod solemnly at the word “marginalised,” and then use “ghetto” as a party theme.

The Aesthetics of Empathy™

The true tragedy of Urban Liberalism 2.0 is that it’s no longer about action — it’s about aesthetic proximity to suffering.
How do you show you're woke without doing the work? Easy:

  • Share a Palestine story with a Van Gogh filter.

  • Quote Rumi about longing while flying Emirates Business.

  • Post a black square and then ghost your Dalit friend who dared correct you.

Suffering is performative, not participatory. Bonus points if your empathy matches your interior design: earthy tones, exposed brick, and quotes from Sufi poets you’ve never read.

Daddy’s Money, Mommy’s Therapist, and Marxist Identity Crisis

Let’s face it: most of these “rebels” are trust fund babies.
They will passionately argue capitalism is evil — on a MacBook paid for by the IPO of their father’s second startup.

They romanticise poverty like it’s a Pinterest board — but god forbid they marry outside their caste.
They’ll preach about intersectionality but panic when their driver’s son gets into Ashoka University on scholarship.

Dating the Urban Liberal: A Survival Guide

You’re not dating a person. You’re dating a brand.
They come with pre-installed features:

  • Preferred love language: Intellectual foreplay through articles from The Wire.

  • Turn-ons: Quoting Arundhati Roy, but only the sexy lines.

  • Kinks: White guilt cosplay with a side of handloom kimonos.

They ghost you not because they’re toxic, but because they’re “holding space for their healing”. Translation: dating a Scorpio now.

The Dangerous Comedy of It All

Let’s be clear — liberalism matters. Free speech, bodily autonomy, social justice — these aren’t trends. But in the hands of latte-fueled pseudo-intellectuals who gentrify every idea they touch, it becomes theatre. And not even good theatre — it’s student production of Waiting for Godot, but with fairy lights.

They speak of resistance, but can’t resist a good Goa villa.
They critique the system, but wouldn’t survive a week without Swiggy.
They want to dismantle the patriarchy — but only after this weekend’s Sula Fest. 

Urban liberalism has become a photo-op: protest placards, turmeric lattes, and podcast recommendations instead of praxis.
Real change doesn’t come from an NFT of Ambedkar or a Mehboob Studios panel. It comes from discomfort, accountability, and probably giving up that trust fund for taxes.

But then again, taxes are for fascists, right?

Aniket Kumthekar

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