Plant Food

The plastic pouch said ‘plant food.’ It was Valentine’s Day and I had just received my bunch of freshness. Unlike packaged food for humans, this one didn't have an ingredient label. Though I was sure it was a chemical concoction, I decided to give in.

Days passed by. My flowers stayed in a tall glass by the window that overlooks the rolling hills. On life support, I thought every time I looked at them. The moment water ran out of chemicals, I knew my flowers would die.

They pulled through till the season of love passed. The plant food was meant to support them only till the end of season. Of love.  The flowers looked as fresh as they would be on a plant, putting up a brave face.

At the end of a week or two, I noticed signs of deliverance. Wrinkled edges, crinkled petals, ready to break free at any moment. I noticed how even in parting, they were eager for sunshine, their tips turned toward the sun, touching the glass window. But very soon, I had to let them go.

In life, as in love, we find instances when we turn to ‘plant food’ solutions. When we get a semblance of hope/ love, and then it's taken away too soon. The ones with roots, the ones that run deep, the ones capable of taking the sun will be in for long. 

STAY STILL

Imagine you are staying in a small wood cabin in the middle of a deep forest. It's night. Through the foggy window of your cabin you see the moon. It appears blissful, but is looking for a kindred spirit. A meditative soul. The stars are hibernating.

Outside your window, the trees are covered in snow. There is no breeze to shake some snow shavings off the branches. You are carried away by the thought of foxes trotting across the niveous landscape, looking for things that matter to them.

Your fingers clutch a tea cup tightly. Your room is just about lit, just about heated to keep you minimally warm. The world is still except for the golden coloured liquid wobbling in your white tea cup. The more you observe the contrast, the more you are enamored. By its colour, its life, its vivacity. 

 You don't have an internet connection or a mobile phone. You are far from the city. You have books for company, carefully chosen ones. The tea gets replenished, each time, the stillness of the world and the exuberance of the liquid touch you.

You look inside. You look outside. You form connections. You look back. Like a movie reel that plays reverse, your life unravels in slow motion. You traveled a lot, worked a lot, sent thousands of messages over SMS and WhatsApp, posted on FB, made phone calls, chattered endlessly, built a business, built someone else's business, and came back home tired. You felt low once in a while. In spite of all this action and commotion, a void remained. 

You wanted more technological progress. You also longed for unspoilt places. 

Deep in the woods, you find your lost soul. You feel the void no more. You stand still while it gets filled. You don’t make haste to pick up your mobile phone to check the last message that came in with a beep.

You are now visiting the woods, going back to the pristine, to whatever is left after your constant rummaging. You have now discovered that your windows are more transparent than the many flat screens that once filled your life. As you venture into the woods, pay heed to this reminder from Robert Baden-Powell. "When through with a camp-site, take care to leave two things behind. Firstly: nothing, Secondly: your thanks" 

Gratitude is the best emotion to ring in the NEW YEAR with. Happy New Year.

 (Image courtesy: www.desktopnexus.com)