Lessons for sustainable living from my Grandma

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