If you haven’t ‘bhogi’ed or ‘lohri’ed, you’ve done well by the planet. Of course, you’ve forfeited some fun, but then with asthma and other respiratory diseases on the rise, we stay in these days, wish each other in gifs on WhatsApp and then turn to Netflix to (binge) watch Tidying up with Marie Kondo . Marie is Japan’s collect-choose-scrap-store expert in the US, whose method and philosophy on decluttering has received both admiration and criticism.
She starts the process of decluttering a house by sitting in vajrasana for a couple of minutes, to connect with it, before smiling serenely through the clutter. Her method sounds simple: You pile things up (clothes or books, for instance), pick up each item, ask yourself if it sparks joy and either keep or discard. (Aside: I am told by a young colleague that this has turned into a drinking game. Each time Marie says “sparks joy” you can toss back 30ml.) What you keep (of clothes/books, not the booze), you ‘file’ away in boxes with the particular folding technique she teaches. Her message: Tidying up connects at a deeper level, helping you navigate a clutter-free future, both in physical and mental space.
I tried it; it works. The problem with MK is that as Indians, where minimalism isn’t part of who we are, we’re likely to fill up our homes with new objects that, say it with me, spark joy. So after I threw out half my belongings, I went to Dastkaar and found object after object that did just that. Luckily, the prices were prohibitive.
We had our traditional ways of getting rid of the old, burning it in an ashes-to-ashes-dust-to-dust sort of way, around festivals. That’s not possible any more with electronics and plastic. So like most things traditional, we only hold on to the nonsensical (elaborate gifting), and forego the practical (decluttering), making us hoarders of the highest order.
With both the KonMarie and the Bhogi method, we’re still fostering a use-and-throw culture? We’re cluttering up the planet even as we clean out our own house (the Western version of dumping the junk in your neighbour’s). We’re not tackling the problem at its source: why do we have so much stuff to begin with? A (perceived) high disposable income, online shopping, self-indulgence, gifting, sales. How do I prevent myself from buying that sequinned jacket I’m never going to wear? And when I do realise that 10 years later, what is a responsible way of getting rid of it? By passing it on to another person who will also be lured by its shininess and then put it at the back of the closet for years? Or giving it to the househelp — our fallback for both waste disposal and the feeling of doing good?
We need a system of labelling, where each garment comes with a tag telling us of what went into making it: the cost, both human and planetary, so that we become more conscious shoppers. (Obviously, our meditation apps are not working.) If we can only remember this: dumping out mental and physical rubbish somewhere else does burden people and the planet, while only increasing profit.
