I live in Pennsylvania, eight or nine thousand miles away from my parents, but every day I learn something from them. Or rather, I realize that I have learned many things in years past, but only slowly am I putting it all to use. My parents live amidst the overcrowded clutter of suburban Mumbai.  

Every day, they buy a handful of flowers and bel leaves for the household altar. The flower woman delivers them to our door, wrapped in a leaf and tied with a piece of string. My mother saves the string, and when it has grown to a fist-sized ball, she returns it to the flower-seller to re-use it.  

Even though my father takes cloth bags to the fresh produce market every day, occasionally plastic bags do creep into the house. My mother collects them, and periodically hands them over to the vegetable vendor. In the days of glass milk bottles, my mother saved aluminum foil caps. A few caps made a new career as pot-scrubbers while others earned an extra spot of money for our domestic help. When the tough nylon fabric from folding deck chairs frayed at the edges, it was taken out and sewn into heavy-duty bags to buy our monthly supplies of wheat, lentils, and rice.  

Even though my parents live in an apartment, they don't regard my mother's hoard of old stuff as clutter; it is well-organized so things are there when they need them. Only after I came to America did it occur to me that stores sell such items. I have come to recognize how my mother’s little habits continue to shape the way in which I use things. My mother never uses the expression ‘reduce, reuse, recycle’; I doubt that she has even heard of it. When she adds a little thread, pin, or cover to her stash, she simply says “This will be useful”.

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Uma Asher, State College