When I came to New York last year, I came with two bags, my daughter and my husband. I had left much of my stuff behind when I was packing. Picking only things that were really essential, like the good handy pressure cooker and my rolling pin! So, I had a trimmer version of my old self. One watch instead of ten. Fewer clothes in place of a wardrobe stuffed with clothes that I had hoped to wear some day.

When we started our new life, it was actually starting from a scratch. We were in a bare American apartment, which we immediately set to fill with things in order to make it our home. However, this time around I asked myself twice every time I wanted to buy something. Each item on our list had to pass through a test—did we need it for our everyday functioning? After all, we were here for a year and, not forever, I would remind myself. This clarity that we would pack our bags and go back to India helped me to avoid piling up stuff. In fact, even the Black Friday sale could not seduce me into buying that sleek coffee maker. Unless you are judging me for having instant coffee, I can tell you I have actually had a meaningful year just because of buying less.  It turned out that I was doing just fine with a hundred times less things than what I was used to. The belongings, how so ever dear, that had been left behind bore no significance in my current life.

The reason why I decided to buy less, ironically, came from the love of things and not otherwise.  I could not bear to leave behind the things that I would have bought so lovingly in the first place.  I did not want to be bogged down by more goodbyes than necessary. It’s funny how we get attached to our possessions and they start to become more like people and less like objects.

I wanted it to be as easy to pack those two bags as it was when I had flown in. You see, I had an assurance that my possessions back home would be safe and waiting for me to own them again. It was at this time that I started to think about attachments and our fear of parting. Are we not living our lives believing that we are going to be here forever? And this is the precise notion which leads us to accumulate wealth and power.

It was over a phone call that I talked about embracing a minimalistic approach to life with my mum.  I told her isn’t life also like a short stay, so why should we create bonding with things that we cannot take back when time is up? “I am so aware of the impermanence of my living in New York, but I can never feel the same about living in this world though”. “If only we realise every day that we are here for a given time, perhaps we can do better with our every single day.” My mother laughed at my sudden philosophical discourse and she assured me that this awakening would disappear soon.

The question that arose that day was what I wanted in life for myself. In the last one year, I have walked more, I have read more books, made more friends, started learning chess and most importantly, reflected upon life. I have had those quiet spaces that we generally fill up with the noise from TV or social media.  And in these moments I have often wondered at the transient nature of life. Nothing is here forever, not even me. Because I knew that I would leave New York, I set about to get the most of it. But isn’t this true about our lives too.  If only we stop taking life for granted, maybe we will be more careful with it. May be we will do things that matter more. May be we will bother less about what someone says and stop pining for approval from others.

Then one day I received tragic news, my uncle had passed away all of a sudden. The truth of death rang crystal clear in my ears. It was quite upsetting to see the uncertainty of life firsthand. It was at this time that the world seemed to be dark and death seemed like someone ready to sneak up behind you. Life seemed to be meaningless all of a sudden. After all, you leave everyone that you love, everything that you own and you leave your own body.

‘Well, you cannot live your life if you focus on death’, my friends told me.  This is when I decided that while one should not forget the impermanence of life, one should see the day we have right now to live. So it is today that you and I have. It’s a beautiful day out there. It’s up to you and me to prize this moment, for this is just a moment in transit.