Being a lover of flowers I inevitably choke my garden with all kinds of flowering shrubs and trees. Once I even asked a cousin to bring gulmohar seeds, but gave up the idea when someone told me they were more suited for public places.
I am not a floriculturist by any stretch of imagination. Far from it, I have conveniently taken after a well-known architect-cum-naturalist who believes in ‘wild gardens’ rather than designed ones. For all the care I give (or don’t give) to my delicate flowering plants, very few grudgingly bloom. That’s because I don’t use hormones or any artificial inducements. The only shrub that bloomed riotously to my chagrin was the purple bougainvillea at the gate. Spectacular though it was, it spilled over to the road and had to be cut as it was a hazard for children in school buses, who may have a close shave with the thorns. Talk of abundance where not required!
I wanted something less intrusive and more sweet smelling, well within my garden limits, posing no danger to others. It was with this intention that I grew jasmine plants along both sides of the sidewalk. I religiously watered them in the hope of one day walking past a sweet-smelling driveway, breathing in the invigorating fragrance of jasmine flowers. The labour of love continued for months, even years, but nothing happened.
One day a friend advised me to trim the branches. Half in despair, I cut off the plants almost completely with just the roots remaining, with the intention of uprooting them and replanting something more visibly beautiful if they refused to bloom again. Almost like the fig tree in the Bible that was given one more year of life to see if it would bear fruit, the plants were watered and fertilised and I gave them a last chance. One day as I was watering the plants, I noticed tiny rice-like buds on my jasmine plants that had sprouted fresh shoots. I looked around on the others and lo, every one of them was loaded with buds! My happiness knew no bounds.
When the first leaves or buds come out I speak endearingly to them and sometimes even kiss them. People may consider me slightly off my rocker, but I do talk to plants. Truly, plants know our moods and hear and understand what we say. I have realised that when we speak to them, they do respond positively. Remember, love and care make the world go round, even for the trees around us.
Elizabeth Koshy
Email: kitty.koshy@gmail.com