Reuse Repurpose

This picture is of our spice closet.  Dhaniya powder, jeera powder, goda masala, garam masala, amchur, bisibelebath masala, what have you.  If you look beyond (or technically, not as far as) the pulverized seasoners and aromatics, you will notice the uniformity, for the most part, exhibited by the containers of the said triturates.  The uninitiated will no doubt presume that Pavana and I jointly share a passion for standardization of storage vessels and concomitantly other similar matters pertaining to domestic interiors, and therefore must arrive interior decoration choices such as these after much deliberation and purchase materials to suit the said choices.  Right?

Wrong!

These containers look the same merely because they all came from the Indian store at different points in time in history, and were once brimming with tamarind-date chutney, which was then inhaled by us via bhel puri, dahi puri, ragada patties, etc., leaving the containers to fulfill their life destiny by getting washed, dried, and filled with masala powders.

Pavana and I both grew up in middle class homes in India.  What this means is that the terms “reuse” and “repurpose” have come to be the enduring lexis in our lives, and the term “disposable” has essentially gotten filed down to a nullity.  You ask why?  Here’s why. When you grow up seeing empty plastic milk bags hanging to dry everyday, ‘hole-ey’ baniyans being used as a dusting cloth, old petticoats getting stitched into TV covers, and expired calendars being used to cover books or getting repurposed as “rough notebooks” to aid scoring a ‘centum’ in your maths exam, do you think it is a wonder that after so many years, we still think that using a paper clip on a toothpaste tube to help extract that last bit of paste is the answer to burgeoning monthly expenses?  On the same token, you will perpetually find a few Bounty kitchen towels hanging to dry in our kitchen, the rule being that any given paper towel may be reused until the muck on the towel is visibly greater than or equal to the muck on the kitchen counter.  You will also find in our kitchen, disposable food boxes and aluminum baking trays carefully washed and stashed away, ziploc bags that say frozen coconut or frozen methi but contain some mysterious frozen masala paste, a box that says desi jaggery but contains rice, etc.  The list goes on.

And here’s the kicker.  We haven’t bought those fancy Hefty trash can liners since 2008.  Why invest in expensive and thick polyethylene when you can line the trash can with two free and thin polyethylene grocery bags?  Interestingly, we still have some of the 2008 trash can liners left, and we use them only when we have large gatherings in our home.  The fact that we continue to find more liners in that old box either means we are miserly hosts or that I chanced upon a magic box of trash can liners that never empties.

And lastly, how can forget soap!  Walk into our bathroom, and you will see in the soap dish, a soap bar of nondescript hue that has resulted from chronic affixation of dissolving soap bars of assorted brands, colors, and fragrances.  Moti, Dove, Dettol, all-in-one.  What other brands will next make it to the club is an intriguing subject.  Medha says she is waiting for it to become a “million soaps monster” that will somehow still smell “yummy”.