A Life Full of Trash But no Cash

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A Life Full of Trash But no Cash



R Swaminathan



A search for a roof starts with a 2 BHK apartment to accommodate a nuclear family
and guests including parents; but a
few years later, the place seems to be uninhabitable, and a change becomes
absolutely necessary all because the
three-decade family has accumulated huge luggage that is mere junk. The electronic
waste problem is assuming
incredibly high proportions not only for the nation but also for the individual family.

The love for gadgets and appliances grows even as the family becomes bigger and
prosperous. Some of them become scrap
due to wear and tear and when spares are not available or when it cannot be
serviced. Sleeker models with latest
features replace the old faithfuls. Ask any couple who have lived in a metro for
over 10 years about the useless wares
they have with them. The list will invariably start with the mixie, followed by the
VCR and MP3 players, tape
recorder, two-in-one radio, transistors of various sizes, grinder (old stone model),
boxes of cassettes, etc.

No one wants to discard electronic waste perhaps because it will fetch a measly sum
when sold as scrap or because the
absence of it will leave an empty space on the shelves. Those who have become
computer savvy in recent times have
monitors lying packed in a corner, and even some peripherals quite obsolete now. The
LCD monitor and other hardware of
the PC will be new. Usually the first acquisition is a showpiece and the count of
junk starts from the portico and
extends all the way to the kitchen and balcony.

The kitchen loft is full with all the old utensils, given right from the time of
marriage (but never used), the old
water purifier (it is still there because you get only `1,000 and that too in
exchange for a new model costing about
`10,000), a vacuum cleaner from the '80s and a wooden crate or iron trunk full of
dolls (marriage sentiment again!).
Coming to the balcony, you find a heap of plastic trash of all hues and varieties
and empty containers of cosmetics
adorning the rack. Your heart breaks because you are offered just `2 per kilo for
the plastic and cassettes.

You end up calling the pest controller because of the legacy that is lying with you.
Anyone picking a quarrel with his
better half over things to get rid of is simply told he deserved to be dumped in the
Bay of Bengal. If you are a brave
heart, you will take a peek into her almirah full of clothes, most of them never
revealed to even the man of the house
because he would curtail further spending on those items.

It is a naked truth that no family even cares to dispose of the inners and
undergarments, storing them for a rainy
day. So you can imagine why you have to look for a bigger place to live --- not
because your family has grown in size
but simply because there is no room to keep your trash. “What is this life if full
of trash but no scope to convert
into cash?”, I wrote a verse, reminded of the poem  Leisure by William Henry Davies.