Has anything happened?


I used to be an avid gardener many years ago. And then, we moved cities. I had to give away my plants multiple times and my heart broke each time I had to bid adieu to them. So, when I moved to my current home, I decided that I would not grow any plants and thus not get attached to them again!

I do have a few plants that have been gifted to me by friends. I have been caring for these. However, it was not until a couple of weeks ago that I decided to get back to gardening.

Inspired by a friend’s garden, I bought pots, soil, seeds and other basic equipment. I spent that weekend potting, planting seeds and watering as required.

The wait began. The whole family got involved in the process. Every morning my son would get up and ask me, “Has anything happened?”

For the first week, my son and I paced to and from the balcony on our various trips to the kitchen or to the dining room. The soil remained as it was, tiny white pieces of pebbles dotting its rich, dark brown surface.

One morning, just a week later, I saw the tiniest pairs of green leaves, bright against the dark of the soil. So, so tiny. I ran to wake my son up. Soon, we were seated around the pot, our eyes peering at this tiny miracle of creation.We smiled in excitement.

Now, I feel like a new mom all over again, constantly tending to these new babies in our home. The other night, when the skies opened up, I ran at midnight to bring the pots indoors.

I have fallen in love all over again with these beautiful plants. Plants that will grow when we are not watching them, just like our children. Plants that will grow proud and tall and wave merrily in the breeze. Plants that will flower and bring joy. Plants that will bear fruit and seeds for this magic of life to continue.

I sit down again on the balcony and peer down. My husband calls out, “Has anything happened?”

I murmur to myself, “I know something magical is happening, but I can’t see it just yet.”

The little red flower


It is a bright and sunny day, after a week of dull rainy weather. I am cooling-off after my workout and head to my balcony. I allow the gentle morning breeze to tease my sweat-soaked curls, before it envelopes my neck and gifts me a few moments of pleasurable coolness.

The world below is already busy. Traffic is quite heavy and people are walking with purpose. Suddenly, I sense something flying past the balcony grill and on to the floor.

It is this beautiful flower! I quickly rush indoors to get my phone to click a picture.

And as it lies against the grey tiled floor, its beautiful red colour warms my heart. It reminds me of the beautiful hues of the red saree worn by a new Indian bride, it reminds of the deep red chillies that my mom would always sun- dry on our terrace when we were kids; it reminds me of the deep red spine of old books on our bookshelf, dog-eared and cherished; it reminds me of a perfect layer of raspberry jam on a slice of toast. It makes me smile.

This little flower has flown-in with the breeze, a simple gift that enlivens my day – bringing with it stories of its life experiences, and stories of how it was nurtured and cared-for by a loving pair of hands. Now it lies on my balcony, beautiful and poised, ready for whatever comes next.

Home garden


There is something so beautiful about having plants at home, especially when there is no space for a huge garden.

My husband’s mom talks about how green the area had been, when she and my father in law had moved into their new home after marriage. More than five decades have rolled by, and there are buildings everywhere. My mom-in-law loves and nurtures all her plants.

There are two beautiful Magnolia campaca trees at the entrance of the house. One of them yields fragrant, creamy-yellow flowers. Their trunks have grown with our home – spreading out branches, sprouting leaves, blooming flowers and watching over the goings-on in the neighbourhood.

There are many potted plants, hibiscus, sweet pea, star jasmine, creepers, tulasi, curry leaves, green chilli and coriander. As I walk around the compound, I enjoy the mid-morning breeze, as the clothes on the clotheslines flutter in unison.

The leaves of the hibiscus plant are a deep, shiny green. There is a beautiful bud, waiting for the right time to bloom.

Just above the hibiscus plant is the Ixora coccinea plant, a shrub commonly found in the region. The bright orangeish-red flowers are a treat to the eyes. I call them ‘drops of sunshine’.

One of the branches has two bud clusters that look identical. They look like sisters….sharing some childhood time, laughing merrily, gossiping with each other, and swaying in the breeze, little knowing that they may each bloom differently.

There is a strange peace that comes in watching the champak tree. The clear blue of the sky can be seen through its leaves, as a crow caws lazily in the background.

There is a joy in watering the plants, and watching the soil soak it all in.

There is peace. Everything is just as it should be.