This letter from Rithihi is a Vesak story on what we can derive from the Buddhist recipe for zero-waste textile use
Among the many values the Buddha taught, there was one especially practical and profound: a deep respect for what we use. In the time of the Buddha, even a worn-out robe was not discarded. There is a beautiful story from Buddhist lore, where King Udena of Kosambi, curious about the ways of monks, asked Buddha’s close disciple Venerable Ānanda, “What will you do with robes once they’re worn thin?”
The monk replied gently: “We will make them into under wraps, then into mattress covers, then into ground cloths, foot-wipers, and dusters. At last, when they become threadbare, we tear them into shreds, knead them with mud, and smear them into wall plaster.”
Even the smallest bit of cloth, the king realized, was never discarded. Nothing was without worth.
Not a thread wasted. Not a gesture unmindful. This wasn’t just frugality—it was an entire life philosophy of mindfulness. A way of honouring the world and its resources by using things carefully, with gratitude and intention. The material world was not something to be consumed and cast away, but something to engage with respectfully, care for, and pass on. In Buddhist practice, to recycle was not an afterthought—it was a path to mindfulness.
A culture of material reverence: carrying it forward
This tradition of recycling textiles—deeply rooted in Buddhist monastic life—also resonates across many South Asian cultures where resourcefulness, craft, and reverence for material objects were once second nature. In communities from India to Sri Lanka to Bangladesh, recycling and repurposing textiles was not a matter of scarcity—it was an artistic, emotional, and often sacred act. Wedding sarees became cradle cloths, torn blouses became quilt pieces, and garments travelled down generations as memory-keepers. In South Asian homes, textiles were objects with souls that carried fragments of people, special occasions, and places.
For the Rithihi woman, recycling need not mean asceticism or compromise. It is a philosophy—one that invites us to be conscious in how we choose, use, and eventually release the things we wear. At Rithihi, we make it possible for more women to carry these philosophies forward by applying their spirit in ways that are relevant and meaningful to our time. The Kolam sarees, dyed with pigments drawn from plants, roots, and minerals, show that colour need not cost the Earth. Our handwoven cottons, spun on traditional looms, are made to return to the soil, leaving behind no plastic trace, only memory. Our pure silks, created in techniques passed down through generations, honour the slow rhythm of craftsmanship over the noise of mass production.
Perhaps the most visible expression of this lineage is seen in our vintage Kantha jackets. Made from layers of recycled sarees—each with its own life, its own story—they are not garments that hide their age. They celebrate it. They invite us to move away from the culture of endless newness and into a way of dressing that is loving, layered, and alive.
These jackets are not symbols of austerity—they are symbols of affection, care and a beautiful way to bridge the past and the present.
When we choose with intention, we honour the world
In today’s world, recycling may take a different form. For the Rithihi woman, it may mean choosing textiles that naturally biodegrade, resisting the culture of disposable clothing, or simply wearing things for longer. It may mean mending what can be repaired or establishing sharing circles between like-minded people. It may mean transforming a silk into a keepsake, a saree into something passed down for generations. Such practices are not guilt or deprivation; they are about beauty that doesn’t cost the Earth. About refinement that sits in harmony with the natural systems while also fostering cultures of care, mindfulness, and longevity.
When we choose well, when we honour the hands that wove the threads, the dyes that came from leaves and bark, the stories embedded in each pleat—we participate in a cycle of respect. And when the time comes to let go, we do so in a way that returns to the Earth what it once gave us. Recycling is not simply an environmental act. It is a spiritual one.
This Vesak, we invite you to look not only inward, but also outward—to the world that holds us, and the small, everyday ways we can live more thoughtfully within it. It is a call to honour materials that give back to the Earth. To mend, reuse, and reimagine. To let our clothing reflect not just who we are, but how we wish to live.
This Vesak, may we remember how recycling is an act of reverence to our world. Have a blessed Vesak, from all of us at Rithihi.
