I woke up early today, even if the lazy me would be so happy if I stayed in bed, wrapped in that very warm bedsheet. My place has been really cold, December level cold for a few weeks. But I had to do something new I had committed myself to. My home has a very large backyard, full of mango trees, but for some reason there is none in the front yard and the sides. A beautiful home that has a lot of land around it, in a place like mine is such a luck and more of a blessing.
The plants, they have something, some sort of stillness in them that I have been hoping to find in myself. First, I planted the seeds in a little pot and watered them for a few days. After a few days of it sprouting, the baby plant sprouts has to be transferred to the ground. It helps them to grow better and it's safe. Now, I imagine how much people need the same care. Everyone felt as fragile as that little sprout and needed to handled with softness. Now Iam just here, waiting for it to grow. My grandma got me some seeds of pomegranates and papayas. I found some watermelon seeds too. I don't know how many years it's going to take for them to grow, but there is something painfully beautiful about waiting for something to grow in its own pace, going through phases. Iam talking about humans too. But the tomatoes did not sprout and I felt a little sad, for quite some time. Just like humans, again.
I just might visit the nursery in the next town, for some roses and lilies. I long for wisteria and the pale Lavender it comes with. Lilac skies and lilac flowers would be a dream. Most of all I dream of winter blossom that can only grow in Japan. But will I ever get the winter blossom here, I don't think so. Just like humans, again.
There is the way they exist, rooted. I changed their grounds and yet they grow, facing the sun. Ah, sun reminds of sunflowers. Maybe I want every flower in my garden, every fruit, every vegetable. I remember Sylvia Plath who said 'I want to be everything in life and I want everything in life, but Iam so horribly limited. But because I want everything in life, Iam close to being nothing'. Just like my life. But these plants, they don't really protest at their own life. They just go with the flow of what I do and I sit and wonder why I can't be like that too. Just like water, not solid but ever changing, flowing where it's allowed to.
The early morning, the time between 4 and 6 are the times I had never really seen in life. But the darkness and the silence that exists between that time is sometimes extreme bliss and the other times torture. You can sit there before your garden, glad about the trees and flowers that grow well, beautiful, colourful, smelling fresh and tasty. And maybe sit a little sad at the wilted ones and the ones that didn't bloom. The worst of this is you have done the best you could, taken care of it, watered it with love, daily.
The sun rises, my face lights up in a warm glow. But I wish that it would give life to the wilted plants that I loved. Because I had watered them daily and the sun shines daily. Maybe did it wilt because I had watered them extra or the sun had been too hard?
And then I go back by dusk, to see, yet again just the plain mud. How fast can you expect an entire tree to grow? It happens in its own pace and no pace is a wrong pace, I had begun to see it by then. By then, I had known to accept it too. But what if I come back to the spot after years and the small shrub that could grow into a huge tree , is still that small shrub, even after a year or five years or ten years down time. Maybe I would know it when I see. All I can say is, despite it, it has to be watered once in two days and the sun has to shine upon it for a few hours atleast. I can do it myself till I stay here, and maybe the day I will have to leave, I would have found someone who can care for it, even a fraction of how much I had, I would leave in peace.
But nothing is easy. If I do want a life where I just get the vegetables and fruits from my backyard, then maybe I shouldn't be this lazy. Maybe it will all be worth the toil, the mud on my clothes everytime, and my grandma forcing me to take a shower. Thats because she doesn't want me to sit at the breakfast table like that. Me, I don't mind too much about it.
Now that I read this again, I can see how I seem like a depressing person. It could be because I see life for what it is, or I talk of life as if it had gone by so fast and we are years away from death, old and still waiting for the tree to finally bloom with flowers and fruit.
Ahh romba melancholic ah pesuromo, seri pesuvom (oru nightku dhana). Who knew some dose of this again would go down my throat like this, even without good language, but just very plain English? Never really cared about beautiful language or flow.
Am I just glorifying and romanticizing just a plain ground, hard and immovable, Just another plain ground that can be overlooked and not really acknowledged ? Maybe yes Iam, it seems like I can see beauty out of the most unacceptable and I see no difference at all. The plain ground is just as beautiful as I have imagined in my mind and I'll stay there for a while.
Ah, seems like this has replaced my daily diary. I'll see how many days I will stay in this state.
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