The Angry Lemon Plant

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 I have spent so many years following what others are doing. From academics to my personal life, I have blindly borrowed so many things from others. Yes, I have always cared for other's opinions. Yes, I have listened to other's judgments. I have done that all - just like so many people out there. 

And one day, out of nowhere I picked up a pen and scribbled the traits and habits I have acquired from others in a little notebook. And I wrote eighteen pages (front and back). 

Okay! A little less than eighteen pages - but they were enough to enlighten me and show me the way. I need to peel off my societal layers without thinking of the result. 

Then a phase comes when you start to give importance to your inner voice. You start looking at your own needs, requirements, and of course, wishes.

One such wish was to have a little garden of my own. When it comes to gardening and the stuff related to it, I was just too amateur. In fact, I had a bad experience with all the plants I had received as gifts on my birthdays. But the rule is to take care of your wishes. 

So I went to this cute little nursery which is quite near to my office. I bought Rose, lipstick aglaonema, and a little lemon plant. With a good experience with them, I gained some confidence and started getting more and more plants. Now I have a gulmohar, Mint, Neem, Aloe vera, and many other delicate as well as sturdy plants in my little gallery. 

Almost every morning, I sit among them and look at the minuteness and beauty of each of my plants. I have started feeling that each plant has a unique nature. Some seem to be loving and warm. Some are angry and irritated. A few of them are darn too aggressive and even turn violent sometimes. 

Just like my lemon plant.

While watering them, I got a bruise from one of the sharpest thorns of my lemon plant. My wrist even started bleeding a little. I looked at it and felt as if it was looking directly into my eyes, still in attack mode. 

I choose to ignore it.

But the other day a similar thing happened. I understood the fact that something needed to be done immediately.

I lifted the pot and placed it on the other side of the gallery, away from the rest of the plants. I grabbed my chair and started sipping my 'Bitterest - Black - Coffee'. 

On my left, there are lush green plants, loaded with flowers and green leaves. And on my right, there is this little lemon plant, looking directly at my face.

Suddenly I heard a group of kids giggling, shouting, and hooting - to tease someone. I looked to my right and saw a tweeny version of mine standing there - struggling to keep his hands up. And on my left, I recognized each and every face. I recognized each and every voice. I recognized each and every taunt. They still ring in my ears. I must be eleven or twelve, with tired arms, I was trying to hold my glasses, which were falling down my cheek.

My fault? I was discussing the episode of 'Shahid Bhagat Singh', which was telecasted the night before on DD National with the guy sitting next to me. The teacher caught me chattering with a little more animation than required in that particular conversation. 

She didn't miss the opportunity to comment on my exam scores and physicality - before 'throwing' me out of the class. When she left the class for some work, some students repeated what the teacher said, adding a little more creativity.

I immediately got up and placed the lemon plant among the other plants. I changed its place, but I couldn't bear the sight of the lemon plant alone, gazing at me. It was haunting my psyche.

The whole day I was thinking about that sight. I was overwhelmed and irritated that day, secretly suffering in my imagination. I concluded the day with the thought that I should receive a national award for overthinking from the Government of India.

A couple of weeks passed and I completely forgot about that day. Like every morning I was watering the plants and plucking dry leaves. I glanced at the lemon plant. When I looked at it closely, I was astonished at the sight. I saw two little lemons hanging joyfully from a low branch of the lemon plant.

 What a sight it was. 

That's the role of genuine companionship, love, and sympathy in one's life. One opens up all the locked and bolted gates of his or her heart. One feels safe and warm in your company - Just like my little lemon plant, which is not so little anymore.

And the national award of overthinking - Here I come.

Love, Laughter, and Peace

HRN