Masala on the Minimum Side: Confessions of a Recovering Hoarder from Hindustan

How to be Minimalistic?

Dr. Sruthi Bhupathiraju

2/4/20242 min read

Namaste, friends! Gather 'round, chai in hand, and let me tell you a tale of liberation. Not one of those spiritual mountain-climbing, saffron-robe types, but the kind that happens when you realize your cupboard could rival Aladdin's cave, if Aladdin had a penchant for plastic Tupperware. Yes, my friends, I was a hoarder. Not the "newspaper clippings on every wall" kind, but the "three dresses for every mood, even sulking-at-the-budget-meeting mood" kind.

But then, something hit me like a rogue samosa at a wedding. My apartment, once a haven of "just-in-case" possessions, started feeling like a dusty museum of my past. Every knick-knack whispered forgotten memories, every pile of clothes screamed, "Who even are you anymore?" This wasn't living, it was squatting in a shrine to my own consumerism.

So, I decided to take a chutney-dip into the world of minimalism. Not some stark, whitewashed affair, mind you. Think Bollywood romance meets Scandinavian furniture – a little drama, a lot of function.

Here's what I learned:
. Letting go ain't a dhobi washing your sins, it's a Diwali cleanup in your soul. Every decluttered drawer felt like a Diwali sparkler bursting, chasing away the darkness of clutter. Remember, friends, attachment to things is like that auntie's halwa – sticky and bad for your emotional health.

• Multitasking ain't just for dresses, your stuff can too. That same dupatta can be a scarf, a curtain, a makeshift superhero cape in case of rogue pigeons. Embrace the versatility, ditch the duplicates. Remember, minimalism isn't about owning less, it's about using what you have more.

• Experiences > Things. That Goa trip you keep dreaming about? Book it! Those dance classes you keep "planning"? Get your groove on! Memories are like delicious samosas – best enjoyed hot and fresh, not stored away in the back of your mind-fridge.

• Minimalism is like chai – it's all about the balance. Don't throw out your grandmother's pickle jar (sentimental value, people!), but maybe ditch the twenty-third plastic spoon. Find the sweet spot between barren ashram and overflowing bazaar.

So, there you have it, folks! My journey from Hoarder Rani to Minimalist Maharani. It ain't easy, like wearing a lehenga after Diwali lunch, but it's worth it. Your home becomes a haven, not a hoarder's haven't. You rediscover yourself, beneath all the layers of "just-in-case" sarees. And most importantly, you learn that true happiness is lighter than a feather, not heavier than a trunk full of Tupperware.

Now, excuse me while I go declutter my shoe collection. Apparently, owning seven pairs of stilettos for "different shades of red" might be taking the minimalism mantra a tad too literally. Wish me luck, and remember, less is more, unless it's chai. In that case, more is always more.

Jai ho to a clutter-free life, my friends!

P.S. If you find a slightly used, barely-touched box of twenty plastic spoons, it wasn't me. Okay, maybe it was. But I promise, I'm a recovering hoarder!