Lessons for sustainable living from my Grandma

Toys, toys everywhere... The amount of ‘stuff’ that we have come to accumulate since the birth of my son in only two and a half years is silly. In my home for example, aside from using up the dedicated storage space in my son's bedroom, we have a double-door cupboard allocated for toys as well as a (spare) bedroom with baby/toddler things housed in all corners. And with so many 'special' days marked on the annual calendars, we overcome our resistance all too often to indulge our son with one more present. As do the extended family and close friends who play their roles in his life to perfection. It won't be an exaggeration to say that our modern homes housing small nuclear families (like mine!) are swamped like warehouses with an endless sea of toys requiring just as much space as people. Could it be that we are simply turning to things to provide the same stimulation that a young child would have drawn from real people and children a few decades ago? Are we replac

Photo by Annie Spratt (unsplash.com) I am no authority on fashion and even dislike the prospect of clothes shopping for myself and for indeed those around me, whether in-store or online. I am unable to see it as something fun to do and therefore find it incredibly tiresome. I would much rather be at home doing nothing. Even doing nothing is more fun for me! I shop when I must do, shopping doggedly with focus and buying what I need as quickly as I could. And despite this and for my middle-class bred disposition to use the life out of my existing wardrobe till garments turn into rags, I have come to accumulate a huge quantity and variety of clothes since my marriage. Probably a function of both my marital and 'NRI' (non resident Indian) statuses. My husband is Mr. Click-happy who shops online on a whim and ends up buying in bulk for me and our son. And my family back home doesn't miss an opportunity to shower me with presents every time we visit - after all a married

We recently took a trip to Greece, as part of what has now become an annual tradition to spend about a week in an idyllic location with abundant sunshine, not too far from home. Aside from lavishly treating ourselves with much-needed sunshine and turquoise blue waters of the Aegean sea on the island of Mykonos, we also spent quality time exploring central Athens - the home of modern civilization. The holiday offered something for everyone - history, culture, adventure, and idleness. It was mostly perfect except for one thing, sustainability! And not because of anything else but for my own lack of planning and farsightedness in that context. Ofcourse I had planned, I planned as best as I could, running around striking things off my list that I was certain I was going to need. I packed sunscreen lotions, hats, picnic blankets, beach toys, a flask to carry boiled water for my toddler, and even breakfast for our no-frills red-eye flight. So, I really thought I was on top of my game

Having seen the recent finding of the overuse (or even abuse) of Calpol in the UK for treating young children, I too find myself guilty for having overindulged in it on occasions. And talking about illnesses, last year when my son started at nursery (and I joined back work) I was positive that it couldn’t get any worse. How naive of me! This year we have already played host to one infection too many and have had to deal with viral rashes, eye infections, sinusitis, Aussie flu, normal flu, high-fever, low-fever and so on. You get the idea! And looking after a poorly toddler stuck at home whilst being sick yourself for days and weeks together isn't fun, it is the definition of misery itself. I felt weak, frustrated, and even questioned our reasons for living so far away from family.  Growing up in Delhi, I had my fair share of sore throats, viral infections and allergic reactions caused by exhaust fumes and pollution. Amongst my cousins, I was teased for being the ‘delicate d

Reading about a new initiative in the UK to install machines to promote bottle recycling in return for cash, had me thinking about the age-old practice of selling junk for cash in India.  In the era of fast fashion, prepacked convenience food, and bulk discounts we buy, switch and throw without discretion. As consumers we have benefitted from mass-scale commercialization, however, we now face a new problem of plenty. As a result, our generation uses a lot but values little. While our wardrobes are full of unworn clothes from boxing day sales and kitchen cupboards with half-eaten boxes of exotic snacks and teas, it is hard for us to truly appreciate value. No doubt then that for those of us who were born at the cusp of the last millennium, recycling for saving resources is not a natural instinct. In contrast, for Amma and Babaji everything was dear. We had designated space in our backyard where any empty plastic bottles, tin cans, metal scrap, or old newspapers were stored,

Plastic use in the UK is so pervasive that we all have had to adjust our lives to accommodate it. After every trip to my local supermarke for example, I diligently set about peeling off the numerous layers of plastic wrapped around fresh fruit and veg. Separating and disposing of throwaway plastic is one task I would gladly skip if given a choice. And with mostly everything preweighed, packed, and sanitised, weekly food shop is devoid of much joy that is drawn from using our senses to find the best fruits of nature. In contrast, my trips as a child to the local 'subzi mandi' (vegetable market) with Babaji were a riot of smells, textures, and colours. With fresh fruit and veg displayed in open carts and stalls, vendors exercised infinite precision to form beautiful patterns. And an intoxicating earthy smell swept through the air as stalls were sprinkled with water on those sultry evenings. Babaji and I would shuffle our way through the narrow path, going from stall to stal

Since teenage, I have been an avid user of spray deodorants. Growing up in Delhi, I think it was a necessity to use something of this ilk in order to beat the sweat when out and about in extreme heat using public transport (non-air conditioned buses). And deodorants were cheap and easily accessible with a dizzying variety of fragrances to choose from. Over the last decade though, despite having moved to a much cooler climate and being aware of harmful effects of aerosol sprays, I still didn't think to reform this age-old habit or find a replacement. I can't pinpoint what it must have been - the satisfying sound of a pressurised spray, or the novelty value of a different smell every month, or simply an overhang from my teens, but a deodorant was a necessity or so I believed till very recently. I can remember how Amma would often pinch her nose finding the very strong smell on my clothes and body unpleasant - sometimes intolerable even. She would then point out the fact that

I believe that the key to a more sustainable life is to buy and use fewer things. Sometimes less can be more and to rationalise what we really need the first big step towards change. And while it may seem daunting, we don't have to look too far for inspiration. Afterall only a few generations before us led healthy and satisfying lives without indulging in excesses and keeping waste to a minimum. For her daily bath, Amma mostly used only three items - a steel bucket, lota (round water pot), and a sandalwood soap bar. Hot water was a luxury (as indeed was running water!) so Amma had to make the best use of her one full bucket of water. Growing up I did not appreciate why she would choose to use a dull looking steel bucket with the nuisance of having to clean it instead of using a cheap, cheerful and easy to replace plastic bucket. However, those exact attributes made it an obvious choice for her, its durability and ease of cleaning meant that she didn't have to throw and re

Living away from my city of birth - Delhi for almost a decade now, I often have flashes from the days spent in my family home located in a western suburb, about 15kms from the center. Childhood memories flood my mind and life here in London - a melange  constituting of old friends, school, neighborhood, family, summer holidays, festivals, and extreme heat & cold. However, the one memory that really stands out is that of my Grandmother and Grandfather - Amma and Babaji as I used to call them. There is so much to remember them by, their presence in my formative years a strong pillar of my existence today. And their simple way of life, the most striking and powerful memory that I have of them and indeed that of my childhood. Amma was a devout and staunch woman, never afraid to loudly voice her strong opinions on everything from politics, religion, food to cricket! At 4feet 6inches, her short stature was never a hindrance in making her beliefs heard and presence felt. Primary schoo