Make more or make do?

Shawn, an expatriate cyclist participating in an off-road ride in Bangalore, India, had ordered his hydration pack online, and it was taking a while to arrive.

But the conditions were intense and he was sweating a lot. He had to drink continually, and needed a temporary solution. He jerry-built his own CamelBak using a backpack, two mineral water bottles, and a length of plastic tubing.

"It is the Indian way," I told him when he showed it to me, "To make do." He wasn't sure whether to laugh, but I didn't mean it in a derogatory way. As you walk the streets of Indian cities, you constantly see amazing, inventive ways to get around life's problems.

Sometimes, when I walk the aisles of supermarkets and home stores of the developed world, or indeed, India's new mall world, I'm dismayed by the number of products I see, and how they pretty much assassinate the mother of invention.

It seems that there is a tool for every tiny variation of specialised need: whether it's a marinating bag pre-loaded with marinade, or toe-only socks for use with high-heels. It's like Lego. When I was a child, Lego was open-ended - the possibilities near-infinite. Today, you can build just one, maybe two, things with each set.

And so, one has to be vigilant to not end up with hundreds of objects that serve one purpose, and then become paperweights. Or that offer such minor variations that even though you have several, one is all you truly need. For example, I have three mortars-and-pestles in varying sizes and styles, and a food processor.

Not always demanding the perfect tool for the task is cheaper, easier on the environment and lighter on the soul. However, on the positive side, this choice breeds a culture of 'if you're going to do it, do it properly'.

The 'make do' inventiveness of the developing world is too often an excuse for not doing something so that it works safely for years. Instead of just buying different plugs and taking the time to change them, stage-lighting providers in Bangalore would constantly use the old trick of sticking bare wires into plugholes, using matches to hold them in place. Yes, matches.

Of course, halfway through a show, the wires would come loose, or be pulled free and the lights they were powering would flicker infuriatingly, or just go out. Make-do culture at its best saves money and materials, but at its worst, is short-sighted in the extreme. Heavily retreaded tyres, for example, are almost always more expensive in the long run, especially since they can cause terrible accidents, but the Indian trucking industry lives on them.

Most times though, it's a delicate balance deciding how much one invests in the various aspects of one's life. Most philosophies suggest that being materialistic is a sure path to unhappiness. But what do you do when you become passionate about something, whether it's baking, photography or make-up; when you learn enough to want to excel, and therefore need the right tools for the job? Is 'considered materialism' any better than rampant materialism?

My grandmother recently looked around her flat - stuffed with the lovely things she and my grandfather have accumulated over the years. Then she gave me this advice: "Look after your health, and don't buy too many things."

I intend to follow this. I'm working on the 'look after your health' bit; but the buying of things& I'm not doing so well there. You see, the things I'm buying are related to looking after my health. Such is the draw of the material world. There's always a blindingly compelling reason to want more.

Gautam Raja is a journalist based in the US.