|Image Source: Google|
A bit of the water sprayed on my face too, as I laughed away in glee feeling the sudden chill. The water hose was having a life of its own, as it swayed in my hand watering everything that came in its path. My skirt was soaking wet by now and sticking to my thighs and calves. As much as it was uncomfortable, the feeling was beautiful. I felt alive. The roses echoed my laughter and their velvet petals embraced me. Strange enough, the thorns shied away and let me enjoy my time here in my little garden. I had set up this entire place all alone, with my family pitching in only to lift the heavy pots. I had mixed the soil and the compost and I chosen the pots and the seeds. I was particular about what plant goes in which pot. For example, I wanted a crescent shaped pot for my roses, as I felt that the roses looked more beautiful when spread across and huddled together. I had chosen many colors in them; bright red, raspberry pink, subtle orange and the sunshine yellow one was my prized possession. A lot of my neighbors had the same cutting, but their roses always turned out to be slushy yellow or pale orange. None of their roses bloomed like my perfect yellow ones. For me, they were perfect droplets of sunshine.
The daisies always smiled at me as I passed by them, their subtle white and yellow patches cheering me up every time. The sunflowers pointed towards the Sun God all the time, except for when I was around. They looked at me and played with my skin. At times I could almost feel their colors on me. The lilies were my favorite as they bloomed every single day. I plucked them every morning and they sit proudly on almost every corner of my house titillating the household with their fragrance. The aromas were no match to any room freshener in the world, and the house felt fresh and bright every day. Those who visited were envious, about the happy atmosphere within. They coaxed me to give them a few cuttings of my beloved plants. I was only happy to share the joy, but almost all of them came back with only one complaint. That the flowers bloom in different colors and not their actual ones, making them look ugly. Till date, I have not been able to figure out why. My parents say that my flowers only bloom right to my touch, and that there is magic in my hands. I don't know what to say to that.
My skirt is more wet now and so is my hair. The money plant creeper has somehow crept to my hair and is tickling me. I laugh as I gently push it away. Turning the tap off and keeping the hose back in its place, I walk around the garden, with my eyes closed and arms stretched out. I wanted to feel the touch of the delicate petals, the strength of the shrubs and the divine concoction of fragrance. It transported me to another world altogether. This here was my life, this here was my passion. There was no other place I'd be, apart from here. Heaven to me, was this. I found peace in the daily routine of watering the plants in my garden. I knew these flowers at the back of my head and I felt that they listen to me while I speak. Why, once I even felt the sunflower laughing with me, as I watered it. These plants are a part of my family and I share a special relationship with them.
People think I am foolish for spending so much time with them everyday. But then again, I have nothing else to do. They envy my green fingers and try to ooze out as many gardening tips as they can from me. I being an emotional fool, let it out too. But they don't seem to work for them. What am I supposed to do. Probably they do not love their plants as much as I do. The love I feel for my plants are pure and unadulterated. And I'm sure they love me back. I can feel the love their love in my heart and their beauty all over me. I know they look gorgeous and just their touch takes me to a beautiful place. A place where I am surrounded by them. I feel it all within me. I feel the love. Maybe the others do not feel that. It is very easy to say that I feel more, because I am blind and I cannot see them. But that is no excuse, right?