There are many simple pleasures in our world. One of them, I believe,is in raising,and tending to a garden.
You start off initially, digging up the soil,planting a seed or plant,where there is sunlight, watering it with a can, and keep watching its progress. Sometimes the seed does not take root, or the plant withers, and you have to start all over again.Then, one day, you feel exhilarated, when the initial green shoots start showing up, then the stem,the leaves,the buds, the flowers, and their petals,all show up in gradual succession, or if it is a fruit tree, you keep watching the ripening of the fruit.You feel like a parent nurturing a child.You can talk to it, pat it, and watch it nodding in the breeze.You take this activity of planting a seed, or a plant further,and before long, you have a garden,and you are its proud gardener.
Many years ago, in Mumbai, we had a small plot behind our bungalow. The soil was fertile,and heavenly,and we had a fair mix of trees and plants of sitaphal, guavas, plantains, rose shrubs, jasmine, hibiscus and sugandhi, all flowering, or bearing fruit, and thriving in botanical camaraderie!.I would water the trees, and plants daily. Occasionally, my father would take up a pickaxe,or a spade, and shake up the soil near their roots.Or he would prune the branches of the brilliant red hibiscus, which generally tends to cast its branches wide.These done,all the plants would flower with a fresh rejuvenation.
When my mother made tea, she would ask me to pour the remnants of the brewed mixture on to the roots of the rose plant, as manure. And the rose plant would show its gratitude soon, by gracing its stems with a bunch of pink roses. I would, many a time, carry a bunch of roses to give to my favourite teachers in school. When the guavas and sitaphals ripened, the air would be heavy with the aroma of ripe guavas and sitaphals. When the leaves of the plantain tree matured, my mother would rustle up some quick panpolis with a couple of plantain tree leaves. On festive occasions, relatives and neighbours would,sometimes come over, and all of us would partake a traditional lunch, or dinner, on the plantain leaves. When the plantain tree blossomed, the green plantains, hanging in clusters, were a feast for the eyes.
Occasionally, caterpillars, or other pests would eat into the leaves of the jasmine tree. Then we had to pluck out the pest -eaten leaves. Soon fresh leaves would appear, accompanied in due course by fresh jasmine flowers. The task of plucking a rose without the thorns pricking your small hand was an art in itself. The daytime air would be laden with the scent of jasmines, and roses. The house sparrows would be chirrupping, sometimes on the windowsills,sometimes in the garden,there would be butterflies humming around, and occasionally a grasshopper would hop in for a visit. In the evening, the sugandhi flowers would bloom and spread their fragrance, late into the night, the crickets keeping them company. When it rained,there would be the aroma of the drenched soil,and the garden would,in due course, resemble a grassland.In winter,the dewdrops would glisten on the leaves and flowers, in the early morning rays of the sun.
I believe that,perhaps,other than when we are in meditation, or in our prayer room,at no other time are we in communion with our elemental self,or with that Higher Spirit, than when we are in the lap of nature .Gardening is also a lesson in caring, nurturing,warmth,and patience. This concept has now been recognised in the corporate sphere,too.For example,Subroto Bagchi,author and co-founder of the IT company Mindtree, gave himself the title of ‘Gardener’ to nurture corporate leadership in the company.
Times changed,my father died,I moved on .Now only memories remain of a gardener,and his parents,who loved gardens and gardening,and of some plants and trees,who loved them in return.
Acknowledgement: I sincerely thank @lovesreading .Her sensitive and excellent blog on 10 New Year Resolutions,which also included a resolution to plant a tree,prompted me to revisit my past,and pen this blog.
