In
childhood, we had three small gardens/ kyaari of plants and flowers - one for
each sibling. Each had plenty of roses and other flowers in it - mine had white
roses and its plant climbed over our house's walls to reach even the roof. We
kids used to maintain our gardens, water the plants, remove the weeds, also
apply ash as insecticide at times. Till our younger sister was a too young, my
elder sis and I used to maintain her garden also. Once father planted a coconut
plant each in my sisters' gardens and also three Ashoka trees which have over
the years grown into big trees. We also had guava trees, papaya plants and
lemon trees - in which many birds made their nests, tweeted around the branches
and played hide-and-seek with us.
I
think growing up took so much toll that I closed all those nice real memories
in a shell and tried to behave as if nothing really happened. About two years
back when we moved to our own flat, my wife bought many plants and we kept
several flower pots in our balcony. Since then, we see flowers in our balcony
daily; we water the plants; worry about them on vacations; and rush to see them
first thing when we are home. She also managed to grow some green chilies in
the flowerpots! Of course we have Tulsi ji in one pot too; and she leaves
children before going dry every time.
When
children traveled far, our mothers would give us something to cling on - a
hanman chalisa, some beaded garland, or some piece of cloth. Once I saw a
stranger boy on the road bringing out his wallet which had passport size pics
of both his parents - how positive was the feeling! I think the idea is to keep
us connected to our true self... This is how human civilizations survive and
keep moving without losing the soul...
