It was sometime after tea. I was feeling quite annoyed. I was hot, sticky and felt a sore throat coming on - it was probably because I had gorged on the yummy vegan ice-cream my daughter Mahi had made for us. I can’t ever eat ice-cream without having a sore throat which is why I usually steer clear but yesterday night I gave in to temptation. Still - why was I feeling so irritable? Well, it’s a bit of a story.
After sixteen years in the crockery cabinet, one lovely plate which was part of a set given to me by my sister when we moved into our new house, found its way to the table. I’ve always kept that set carefully; never taking it out or using it. For some reason, I had the urge to get it out yesterday. I’d passed it to Appu so he could eat breakfast. All the usual plates were in the dishwasher and he was quite happy to get something new and interesting.Since his autism ensures a certain love for patterns, he used the same plate today and left it in the sink (typical guy - won’t do dishes unless you hold a gun to his head). When the maid came later in the afternoon, she told me that the plate was broken. Apparently ‘someone’ had placed something heavy on top of it and it had broken. I realised there was no point in asking how so I told her to wrap up the pieces carefully so we could dispose of it safely.
I got back to my work. The sense of irritability rose. I sat down to think. And soon my brow cleared. Why was I so mad at myself? It wasn’t because of the broken plate - mistakes happen. It was because all my life I have set aside things to be used later.I was always taught that the best things have to be stowed away, never used. How much more meaningful would the life of the plate be had it been used to eat hundreds of delicious meals shared with friends and family? What was the point of anything if it had no use? Is value related to price alone or does the happiness derived from something factor too?
How many of us defer happiness, defer the pleasure of enjoying things, defer the time with friends that we promise ourselves? Most of us I’d imagine. Is it an Indian thing? An Indian middle-class thing? My mother kept tons of crockery in cupboards where only cockroaches got to use them. They were never taken out. Many broke without ever being used. I have some of those things with me now - it’s hard to wipe off the scent of disuse and abandonment from them. Unused for decades does not ever translate to new.
In our present times, when uncertainty hits us on all levels, shouldn’t we take a step back and decide to enjoy what we have? Don’t keep things to give away to your children. Use them. Derive joy from them. If you can’t do that, give them away to strangers, to the less fortunate, to anyone at all. Leaving objects hidden in cupboards where they get entombed in the dust of disillusionment does not spark joy. Let someone else have them who will find use for them. Don’t hold onto things for the sake of having , of accumulating, of finding meaning in quantity.
One broken plate taught me a simple lesson. Holding on to anything binds you to it, makes you heavier and never lets you be flexible. This applies to thoughts and actions as well as house or cars or anything you can think of. The only way to survive this world is to let go. Things will unfurl. You will get there. Everything is always working out for you. So live a lot. Laugh a lot. And break a lot of plates. Because that’s life - messy, unexpected but also surprisingly joyous.
