Lifestyle experts advocate getting rid of clutter and keeping our work and home spaces clear. We need space to let our thoughts flow and our spirits soar and therefore we should have minimal possessions, discard something before we buy, etc. We have heard it all often enough, and when we check out what is available at garage sales, we are forced to admit that many of us are paying attention and seriously want to de-clutter.

Some of the things at garage sales give us food for thought: A lifetime’s collection of books — enough to fill several racks; a little-used child’s rocking chair; alphabet blocks to jump-start children’s learning abilities — scuffed and rough, but still functional; a collection of quaint pencil sharpeners and erasers, all in working condition ...

Who are these people, we wonder, and why do they want to divest themselves of belongings that must be close to their hearts? Are they in ‘transferable’ jobs, like our parents were in their time and we in ours? Or are they just tired of the upkeep involved and have they decided to go minimalistic?

For most of our lives, we had no problems with clutter.

Our parents moved from place to place while they were ‘in service’ and when our time came to be a part of the productive work force, so did we. Packing and unpacking every couple of years, losses suffered when a crate of fragile items landed with a splat and we heard the ominous tinkling of shattered glass, precious boxes left behind unnoticed because we were preoccupied with all the other packages: All this taught us to exercise restraint while adding to our belongings. The less we had, the easier all around.

Roving working life

Of course, sometimes we got rid of more than we intended to — but we learnt our lessons from that too. The mysterious disappearance of our doll houses during one of our ‘transfers’, when we were young, made us resolve to save our children’s toys until everyone in the family had cast a vote and declared them fit for disposal. Which, naturally, translated into ‘never’. The same happened with books.

Other than these two categories, however, our possessions did not grow beyond our control and when we finally left our roving working life behind and entered a small apartment to roost, we managed to find a place for everything.

Things went smoothly until professions changed and the temptations of city life caused a slow build-up of enticing household products, ‘designer’ lamps and ornaments we couldn’t walk away from, the latest books, all manner of games and figurines ... This would have been fine if we had thrown out the other things, but we didn’t, sure that we could unexpectedly need just the item we had tossed. And thus, our list of possessions expanded and available space in the apartment contracted.

Where once we would have run an appraising eye over our household goods while packing to leave town and been alarmed by the growing proportions, now, in our stationary state, we were lulled into a state of blissful unawareness — until suddenly one day no table top or windowsill was bare and there was no room for us to manoeuvre between our belongings.

Our home was cluttered.

We had to downsize, discard, and clear out all unnecessary articles in order to breathe easily. Everyone agreed on that. But how were we to do it? We opted for one-person-one-vote, but after long and loud discussions over each item and endless deadlocks (‘It has sentimental value!’ ‘You gave it to me on my birthday!’) we concluded that our democracy didn’t work. Nothing was tossed out.

And thus, we stay the way we are — happy with our storehouse of memories and comfortable amid our clutter.

Cheryl Rao is a journalist based in India.