Life is too short...

To hoard your nice things; use them every single day instead

 

As part of my resolve to resume normal life – such as it is in times of Corona – I headed out to dinner to the home of a dear friend last week. It was just the four of us and the ambience was nice and relaxed, as we ate, drank and gossiped to our heart’s content. It was a lovely, home-style meal, served on a table that was dressed in an elegant but understated style. 

 

What blew me away, however, were the demitasse cups in which she served coffee after. They were beautiful bone china cups with a floral design, embellished with 24 carat gold and platinum. How did I know that? Well, because I also had the same sets of cups lying in my dining room cabinet, gifted by some friends as a housewarming present when we moved in our home many years ago. I had taken one look at the description (24 carat gold and platinum!) and stored them away safely in the cupboard; and that’s where they had stayed ever since.

 

I confessed sheepishly to my friend that I had never summoned up the nerve to use these cups in my own household because I was so afraid of damaging them through daily use. She first looked at me pityingly and then told me a little story.

 

Her mother-in-law, she said, used to be a woman after my own heart. All the best china and cutlery was locked away in a tall cupboard, and none of it ever saw the light of day. And then, one day, disaster struck. The entire cupboard came off the wall, falling to the floor in an almighty crash, and everything inside it was smashed to pieces.

 

There is a lesson there, she said solemnly, for people like you. There is no point stashing away your nice things in a cupboard for fear of ruining them. They may well be ruined anyway and then you will rue the fact that you never got to use them. 

 

That story resonated with me because something similar had happened to my own mother. All my life, growing up in Calcutta, we had a similar cupboard in which our bone china tea sets and dinner sets resided. You really had to rank as a guest to be served in those delicate cups, saucers and plates. For the most part they remained tucked away, being pulled out every Diwali when they were ritually cleaned, dried and then stuck back in the cupboard. 

 

Then, long after I had grown up and moved away, my mother packed up her household to move in with my sister in Delhi. But there was no way she was entrusting her bone china to the packers and movers who were dealing with the rest of her stuff. So, the tea sets and dinner sets were packed in layers of paper and bubble wrap and entrusted to my cousin who was travelling to Delhi a few months later, with the injunction to bring them with him.

 

Well, he did just that – but instead of hand-carrying this treasure, he checked it in. And, with a certain inevitability, when the packet was finally opened, nearly every bone china piece was broken or cracked. I don’t think my mother – God rest her soul! – ever recovered from the shock.

 

With these two stories reverberating in my mind, I woke up the next day and headed straight for my dining room cabinet. I unearthed the coffee cups that I had stashed away all these years, gave them a quick rinse with soap and water, and stuck them under my espresso machine. It is probably my imagination, but my coffee never tasted quite so good. 

 

Since then, I have made a resolution: I am going to use all my nice stuff instead of locking it away for fear of damaging it. I will carry my best handbags even if I am just going grocery shopping. I will wear my expensive scarfs for a walk in the park. I will air my jewelry every single day instead of reserving it for special occasions.

 

And yes, I will drink coffee out of those 24-carat gold-embellished cups every single day.