SUBURBAN PATCH IN THE CITY

It was in the year 2001. One of the neighbors, Sumathi, gave me a photo of Mother of Aurobindo Ashram of pondicherry. The way of praying to Mother is through flowers. According to her, each flower has a meaning. And if you offer any particular flower in prayer, your prayers will be answered. Sumathi also gave me a book titled “ Flowers and their meaning.”

For example lotus, both pink and white, signify wealth. Red hibiscus signifies energy, so on and so forth.

I began by placing flowers before Mother’s photograph.

That was the time I started noticing trees, plants and flowers as I walked on the roads. I noticed many trees, the type of flowers they bore and the months of flowerings. I also learnt about the perennials, seasonal, creepers, climbers etc.

I became interested in plants. Slowly I got some potted plants and kept them in the terrace in bright sunlight. Initially the plants flowered but all of them died after some time.

I too dropped the idea of growing plants, and started buying the flowers from the vendors.

But the vendors sold only the commercial flowers, like rose, jasmine, marigold chrysanthemum.

So I went to the wholesale market and got flowers at wholesale rates. But this could not be done on a regular basis. Finally I had to settle with the inconsistent flower suppliers. 

Then we moved into our own home, which was in the fifth floor. We had 2 balconies; one long and the other slightly less in length.

I always wanted to own a garden. But how does one do it in the fifth floor?

In the mean time we went to hill stations like, Ooty, Kodaikanal and Yercaud during our yearly trips. Each time we got some plants from these hill stations. These plants that looked so flourishing in the hills, dried and decayed in the hot and humid Chennai weather.

But the love for greenery persisted.

Meanwhile one of my colleagues, gifted me a feng-shui  lucky bamboo plant, when she visited us, in our new house. 

This colleague lives in a house with a wonderful garden, with all types of plants and trees. She had the green thumb, and the plant she gifted me grew up healthy and robust. Very soon I had to change it from original glass bowel container with water, into a pot with soil.

This plant bought with it the much needed luck and thereafter many plants I picked up from the numerous plant nurseries started to grow well.

All the window sills in the house were occupied with pots of different plants. But most of the spots did not get enough sunlight.

So the next question was how to overcome the problem.

 I was in the fifth floor, and could not just leave the flower pots on the   balcony for the fear of them falling on some innocent walker’s head.

So I was thinking, how to solve this problem?

I met a welder who makes gates and rails for the houses. I explained the project to him. He came and took measurements of the balcony. We came up with a design that would hold the flower pots securely in place and fixed the rails on to the side walls of the balcony.

Now I could easily put 10 flower pots with different plants on the balcony. This side of the home got the light form the setting sun and the plants got just enough sun and shade to grow up in good health.

In the other balcony we built a cement shelf, on the top of which we could put up another four pots.   

We had two pots on the window sill, one in the kitchen partition, two near the TV cabinet. I alternated the pots, so that all of them got enough sunlight.

Now my garden had grown, and is a pleasure to watch. I have attached some of the pictures for you guys. Hope you too like it.

Each day as I water the plants, first thing in the morning, it fills my urban heart with happiness, that there is still the possibility of a suburban patch in the city, even though it is just a small strip in the balcony.

the plants on the balcony

the plant on the shelf 

   

Why the great hurry?

Last year the 10^th of August was a sad day for me. One of my very young friends Vinayak Prabhu,  died in a road accident. He was handsome, married for 5 years, had a smart son ,who was 4 years, had a business, which was doing well. Everything was in the right direction, when this happened. A heavy vehicle ran over his pelvis and crushed him to death on the spot.

I had worked with him in his Head Quarters, many years back. He had given me a cassette on Marathi Abhangs. I still have it with me.

Once when he had come to Chennai, I had picked him from his hotel and taken him to my  home. My family and he went to a nearby restaurant for dinner. He charmed everyone with his catching smile, and was so warm and genuine. My son was in the 2^nd year of college. My son was handsome, but compared to Vinayak, he looked just ordinary.

It was a evening of satisfaction for me.

When I heard the  sad news, all the events of the past with Vinayak flashed in my mind in quick succession. it took me quite some time to get over my silent grief.

On 15^th March,  another young man died, on the spot, once again, while riding the 2 wheeler.

This person was my colleague whom I had trained 2 years ago. Very pleasant and mild mannered, with an every ready smile. He was so charming in his behavior and manners.

Through out the  2 years we had kept in touch, over the mobile sending sms very regularly. Recently he was promoted, but died on the job.

So sad ,so meaningless, so unnecessary.

Why this great hurry. Is it better late than never, or better to be late, than to be never?

I still have the last sms he sent me, on 12^th march , at 10.48PM.

“ all of us do not have equal talent, but all of us should have an equal opportunity to develop our talent.” 

Opportunities are for those who live.

I hope this blog puts life in the right perspective.

To do, we have to live.

To live we have to be careful.

May we take all the steps to live well and live long.

Hurrying is ok, but not when it costs your life.

           

OLD IS NOT OLD

I have been training candidates for a long time. At the end of each training I collect the mobile numbers, mail id , face book id, birthdays, marriage days and the birthday of the children of all the candidates.

I wish all of them, on all occasions and send and receive messages from many, on a day to day basis.

Some people keep in touch. Others do not. But that is not of importance to me. It gives me immense pleasure to wish them on their birthdays.

Some of the students are very affectionate. They keep in touch, even after many years of meeting.

To mention a few………..

There was this guy who met me in the railway station for just five minutes, when the train I was in stopped at kaatpadi junction en-route.  

He hugged me warmly and within five minutes filled the meeting with laughter, and love He gave me bag of filled with sweets, savories, cool drinks, bananas, and chocolates.

It was such a grand gesture. That friendliness was the best reward I could aspire for.

As the train left, I carried with me a very warm feeling of affability.

Another student had sent me a box of sweets [ pethas],very particular to Agra, through one of his friends who had visited my office. Unexpected gesture of love was the best surprise, that day.

One more student, a very good and sincere person, with a dependable nature, 

is now working for the police department, He had met me while I was traveling through his town, Krishnagiri . He held my hands with warmth, and presented me with a bag of eatables, as I was traveling further down. He fondly enquired of my health and asked me to take care of myself during my aging years. His concern and genuine care was really touching.

Yester evening I met another student, who had been in touch for three years. He is from Khamam in Andhra. He had started his own business and had been asking for my advice on many aspects of business. I helped him as best as I could. His business is prospering. He had come to Chennai and we met at the Marina beach. He was accompanied by an elderly friend and his sweet and charming wife. They made an excellent couple; so young and lively. He was just 23 and she was 21. They had been married already for 3 years and she was still studying her third year in college. They were so responsible that during these years, they had postponed pregnancy. She was helping in business and simultaneously studying.

We took a bus from the beach and came to Mylapore to have dinner in a clean veg hotel. We had meals. We talked and exchanged ideas, and he sought further advice in running the business well.  We were together till 10 PM, till they boarded a bus to take them to their hotel.  

I too took a bus going in another direction, to reach home.

As I was traveling back I recollected the warmth and affection of all these wonderful friends who, in spite of belonging to a very young generation, could still make an elderly person like me, feel wanted, and gave me a sense of belonging. After all, old is not old when you are surrounded by young loving brethren.  

Rain rain come again

I remember that in 1964 when I was in my 4^th standard, I was walking home from my friend’s house, when it suddenly started raining heavily. One moment it was dry and the next moment it poured like a cloud burst. I did not run for shelter, but enjoyed getting drenched and went home wet as a dog in a rainy day. It was a long walk; 20 minutes, and I enjoyed each and every moment of the shower.

The next opportunity came when I was in my college, in 1973. Me and my friend walked to his house. It was a thirty minute walk. Once again every drop of rain was relished by both of us. We were just young, when life is full of fun and getting wet is a look forward experience.

The third time it was in 1981. I was a representative. I used to meet doctors. One rainy day me and my colleague from another company got caught in a torrential rain, which lasted for more than 12 hours. We were dripping wet throughout the day. We made few calls. There was knee deep water in all the roads. We were not keen on going home. We put our bags in a relative’s house, and went to a nearby theater to see a movie. The shows were running house full.  It explains the die hard Indian who will brave all obstacles and yet make it to the most sacred place in India- that is the cinema theater.

We two were also die-hard. We took an electric train and traveled 20 kilometers to see the same movie in a suburb.

We came out at  6 PM, reached the relative’s house at 7 , continuously getting wet in the pouring rain, and finally reached home by 8. We had been wet for 12 hours.

Next day, we were back to work, in usual good health. 

After that there were many rains, but they were not the opportunities for getting wet.  I was either reaching office, or on some social call, were keeping dry was more important.

Yester evening in 2013, as I was walking home, the rain drops fell, first on my cheeks. Few drops, one at a time. It was on a lonely road where there was no shelter. I said what the heck, it has been such a long time, let me get wet.

I removed my cell and placed it in my pant pocket, safe and dry, wrapped in my kerchief. Then the drops became bigger, and heavier. Yes ,the same feel was there. The child in me surfaced and delighted in each and every drop that wet my face, flowed down from my hair, trickled down my neck, and changed my blue shirt into a darker color. The shirt stuck to me like a second skin, and my pant was pasted with the wet mud from the road.

I reached home soaked to the skin, reliving my child hood carefree days.

Rain is good, beautiful delightful, for those who like to and can get wet.

Next time it rains do not miss the experience, if you are like me; a person who like to get wet in the rains.