I have recently taken to gardening or rather it has taken hold of me (thats quite a statement from someone with a few potted plants inhabiting a miniature balcony in a rental apartment, but please bear with me). Maybe it means I am growing old and infirm (having crossed over the big 30) or possibly that my mother's green genes are finally kicking in (and here I speak of a lady who thinks nothing of toiling away mid afternoon in her garden in the sapping, dry heat of North Indian summers wearing what curiously resembles a Vietnamese rice bowl hat!). Either ways I know - what was once casual flirting is slowly becoming a quiet love.
And how do I know that. Well plants for me, not so long ago, were simply accessories that made the house come alive with freshness and colour. It was all about how they looked in my house and how they made me feel. Obviously, the most seductive and overpriced plants were bought ready potted and all, and then cared for with a generous dash of mythical fantasy ("this Croton is not doing too well, maybe I should sing to it") and a pinch of insecurity ("Oh God!, I hope the Poinsettia makes it through the winter"). Why some survived or why most withered away, with prolonged exposure to me, was a complete and utter mystery. I surely didnt have a green finger, what I had were some pretty random explanations. ("Ah well, most likely the palms died because the maid forgot to water them while I was away for a couple of days last month.")
And how do I know that. Well plants for me, not so long ago, were simply accessories that made the house come alive with freshness and colour. It was all about how they looked in my house and how they made me feel. Obviously, the most seductive and overpriced plants were bought ready potted and all, and then cared for with a generous dash of mythical fantasy ("this Croton is not doing too well, maybe I should sing to it") and a pinch of insecurity ("Oh God!, I hope the Poinsettia makes it through the winter"). Why some survived or why most withered away, with prolonged exposure to me, was a complete and utter mystery. I surely didnt have a green finger, what I had were some pretty random explanations. ("Ah well, most likely the palms died because the maid forgot to water them while I was away for a couple of days last month.")
And so it went on, till one day a friend, (similarly infatuated and totally ignorant about house plants) during the course of a conversation, confessed that inspite of owning so many plants, she didnt know how to pot one, or even when to till a plant. Even though I could perform those simple gardening tasks, it made me realise just how little I knew about the plants I was supposedly taking care of. I was obviously missing the big picture.
And so my experiments with real planting (as i call it) began. Planting that is based on some healthy research and customised daily care. I am happy to report that I have tasted some initial success with planting succulents from scratch. The best thing about these wonder plants is that they need minimal soil and water and are great for almost any season and climate. They can even be potted in a tea cup. What a lovely thought that!My next experiment is to successfully pot a Hibiscus, hopefully the first of many flowering plants that are commonly grown as bushes. This one promises to be a toughie, but lets see how it goes.
Why Hibiscus - well it was the first sapling that caught my eye at the nursery the other day - I remembered it as being the first flowering bush my mother planted when we moved into our very own red brick townhouse all those years ago, it reminded me of the zillions of crimson blossoms I would see every morning from our kitchen window, it reminded me how darned irresistable they must have been, enough for a neighbour to get her puny man friday to steal a bunch of them for her morning Puja!
Why Hibiscus - well it was the first sapling that caught my eye at the nursery the other day - I remembered it as being the first flowering bush my mother planted when we moved into our very own red brick townhouse all those years ago, it reminded me of the zillions of crimson blossoms I would see every morning from our kitchen window, it reminded me how darned irresistable they must have been, enough for a neighbour to get her puny man friday to steal a bunch of them for her morning Puja!
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