Then, June-July |
But once we started, there was no stopping what I wanted in my balcony. Slowly, one by one, each pot got added. I watched with bated breath as each new plant took time to assess its surroundings and decide to flourish - it was as if they approved of me. Their approval encouraged me to add yet one more.
Ambition and greed grew.
Then, the rose that bloomed almost every day slowly dried up showing its green spine that slowly turned brown. The Tulsi - did it accuse me of neglect? It dried up and the two saplings that I got also did not seem to take root. But I refused to pluck the dried stem out. Like clinging to the dead, I clung to the dried plants.
Now, September |
One small pot has mustard seeds - an experiment by my elder one - that seemed to wilt when I neglected it for two days. The hibiscus leaves droop. But when I poured water the third day and it drizzled a bit, that was enough for the plants to look fresh and ready.
A plant I got from my brother - leaves with purple centre and green borders - never took off.
Watching the life-struggle and the hope it brings when it succeeds, how can I destroy any one of them by branding them a weed?
I still lust for more variety in my small garden.
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