Plants go to Plants

I cringed every time the doorbell rang mid-morning. 

We had newly moved to this rented apartment and I used to diligently separate our wet and dry waste  for the cleaners to take away. In two separate containers, I put it outside the front door in the mornings for them to collect. My conscience had rested peacefully about this waste-disposal system till one day I saw them nonchalantly dump the wet and dry waste in the same collection box. It was a perfect combination for production of unfriendly gases in the landfills. 

That settled it. I had a compelling ambition to compost our own wet waste and reduce the dry waste we generated. 

In the beginning I just started out by drying the scraps of fruits and vegetables in the block of sunlight that flooded the window sill. When the pile grew bigger, I moved it to a large cardboard box. I read up a little about composting and started adding a little soil to the heap. But the experiment was not successful. 

When I found out that moisture is important to the composting process, I stopped drying the green scraps and started mixing them with brown waste such as newspaper and hardboard. Then, after a few unfortunate stinking episodes, I figured out a 1:2:1 ratio of greens, browns, and soil to harvest an earthy-scented compost. I agreed with those who say that composting is an art. 

Around the same time, I started growing a garden in the living room window. I found an excellent idea for preparing plant food on a gardening blog which would also make the greens easy to decompose. I chop the scraps of fruits and vegetables and let them sit on the kitchen counter all day in a large bowl. To this bowl I add the water used for rinsing rice, dals, and vegetables. At the end of the day, I sieve the nutrient-rich water and use it for watering plants whereas the rest goes into the compost pot. 

In the learning process, I realised that onion peels makes the compost smell awful so I compost them separately in a shoe box. Citrus peels make the compost too acidic and does not let the microbes do their work. I save these peels and make homemade disinfectant by adding vinegar to them. 

Any useful seeds I come across are saved for our farm which we plan to visit when the pandemic restrictions are lifted. 

Presently, I have two compost pots sitting in our laundry area which gets some fresh air. One is an active bin where all the daily green scraps are deposited while the other one has unrecognisable bits of what was once vegetable peelings, random paper notes, bills of purchase, and so on. 

I must say there is something truly philosophical about composting. Every morning, when I stir the compost piles, thoughts of mortality and the circle of life make a prominent appearance.  The very sight of 'what was' turning into 'what is' gives an immense spiritual uplift to my day and I decide to make the most of it before its gone.  

Interestingly, composting has also reduced the size of dry waste we disposed. Most of the dry stuff that can be decomposed, rests in the compost bin in shreds.

Our plants have been looking livelier since they started getting their daily organic tonic. 

Nowadays, the cleaners do not ring our doorbell anymore because they know that we will put out our small bundle of dry waste only once a month.  

*

My friend, NP, is a wild child. She is also a botanist with a Ph.D. When she had come to visit us in our Vasai home several years ago, she sat eating a banana while dangling her legs out of the window to admire the greenery. Throwing the banana peel straight outside into the garden, she said: "Plants go to plants."

First Day of School

On a sunshiny day,

Hands tightly clasped.

Mom and Dad 

Strong and straight

On either side.

The Gift from Purple Shamrock

In my hometown, they call it the 'Butterfly plant'. The first time I saw it was in Uncle Joe's garden. Owing to the exquisiteness of the shape of its leaves, it is a thriller in every home garden. Botanically it is called Oxalis Triangularis and the common name is Purple Shamrock. 

Three beetroot-coloured triangles are joined at a central point at the end of each stalk. In the night, the leaves fold up like an umbrella. 

I had brought a sapling with just one leaf from my mom's garden last December. This apartment is too tiny to have a gregarious garden. The sapling surprised us by shooting up new leaves in quick succession. The brilliant foliage stood out in contrast to the other greens in my fledgling garden.

Then Mother's Day came. On the Purple Shamrock, a tiny flower greeted me. 

A sapling with one leaf from my mom's garden chose to express its floral beauty in our small apartment on Mother's Day. Immediately I sent a picture to mom. She replied with a Marathi poem. 

All excited, I forwarded the picture to some friends. Hamsa wanted to know the name of the plant. So I searched it up. She posted it on her digital profile. It is still there. 

Yesterday, in my news feed, I found a piece on plants related to zodiac signs. 

Mine is Purple Shamrock. So is Uncle Joe's.

And so is Hamsa's daughter's - because we share the same birthday. 

Like wide-eyed girls, we marvelled at the incredibility of it all. 

Simple joys!

Gratefully yours, Greta!

समुद्रवसने देवि पर्वतस्तनमण्डले ।

विष्णुपत्नि नमस्तुभ्यं पादस्पर्शं क्षमस्वमे ॥

O Goddess, one who is clothed in the waters of the oceans,

and have the mountains as your bosom,

O wife of Lord Vishnu, I salute you,

Please forgive me as I touch your holy body with my feet.

This is the mantra our Hindu ancestors chanted before they stepped out of bed every morning. They held a reverence for Mother Earth who blessed them bountifully.

*

In India, girls are considered as the reincarnation of Goddess Lakshmi.

Recently a teenaged girl named Greta Thunberg from Sweden rang alarm bells in the corridors of power about the harm caused to the planet by humans, and brought to light how climate change would affect the future of young people like her.

With her stern face and the audacity to rebuke world leaders, she reminded me of Hermione from the Harry Potter series. Unlike Hermione, Greta was real and had the courage to take on those who made world decisions. As usual, there was applause and felicitations. However, Greta refused the awards showered on her and that provided a fulcrum to the cause she championed.

Regretfully, there were also people who thought Greta was being unreasonable and that her ‘handlers’ had political motives.

Anyways, Greta lumbers on unhindered and is presently sharing a boat on the Atlantic to return home.

The world will be grateful for you, Greta.

*

Today I am staring at an odd assortment of objects – a used ball point pen, a sticker removed from an apple peel, an egg carton, an empty bottle of shampoo, an expired light bulb, and grocery receipts.

I have been fortunate enough in this life to have received an education and been made aware of responsible disposal of waste. So, I segregate our household waste into wet and dry. The dry waste is further categorized into paper, glass, hardboard, and metal. There was a facility at my daughter’s school in Muscat to dispose these in different sections in a disposal unit placed near the school.

However, here in India, it seems like we need more awareness among citizens and leaders about this. We need someone like Greta who can grab us by our collars and make us feel responsible for climate change. If there is a change in a greatly populated country like ours, it does make a big difference in the overall world statistics.

*

In the news there was a report on a meeting of Catholic leaders where questions were  raised about how humans are responsible for climate change and whether harming the environment should be considered sinful. There were calls for including such sins in confessions. 

Yes, it is about time we felt the guilt and restored the health of Mother Earth to pacify her so that she continues to bless us.

A Naughty Plan in Hanumanpada

Nowadays I practice yoga in the early mornings with a group of people from the neighbourhood who meet in a garden on the hill that is frequented by monkeys. The place is called Hanumanpada and it has a temple dedicated to the monkey-god, Hanuman. 

The uphill path to the pyramidal structure where we practice is  green velvety monsoony mossy. I almost slipped the first time I went there. The others warned me to walk only in the centre where the moss is worn out with footfalls. 

One day, as we walked downhill after our practice, I noticed a banana skin strategically lying in the centre of the path waiting for an accident to happen. 

Who could have done such a thing? Most people who gather there are soft-spoken and well-mannered with adequate schooling which probably taught them about not laying banana peels on walking paths.

We looked around and then looked up to spy this ape patiently waiting for his naughty plan to come to fruition.

Being Organic

"Wow, Bug, you look so organic" said June, my niece who refers to me in all kinds of natural metaphors. 

We had not met each other for over a year. 

It was not one of the best years of our lives as a family. There were several heavy losses - a beloved mother, a well-paying job, a house and a country we had called home for several years,  and a couple of accidents that had left their marks. 

Together, however, we pulled through and showed each other flimsy silver linings. And yes, found something to laugh about every now and then. Friends and family cared in ways they still don't know about. Yoga and meditation helped to maintain my balance in life. 

In a prominent place in our living room, I displayed a Dumbledore quote that A had painted to remind myself of brighter things : 

"Happiness can be found 

in even the darkest of times 

if one only remembers to turn on the light."

In the bustle of settling in a Mumbai suburb, going through school admission formalities, shuttling to Vasai every weekend, cycling everywhere, and tending to an unkempt farm, I let nature take its course and paint some of my hair gloriously grey and my skin take a shade of tan it had never known before.

June was right. 'Organic' is exactly how I am feeling right now. It is a vastly liberating feeling. 

Speaking of organic, I am taking baby steps into organic farming on our little farm. Last month, we shrugged the fence clear of overgrown vines and coconut leaves. A harvest of aged and shriveled coconuts yielded a few chutneys and coconut water. We weeded out the unwanteds and pampered the wanteds. 

With the advent of the month of June, we planted seeds, saplings and seedlings, and waited for rain. Monsoon, this year, however, had a disappointing start and we ended up watering the new plantation through the summer heat. 

In the last couple of days, it has been raining like it had not rained in ten years and we just hope, inshallah, that our new babies have enough will left in them to grow roots and shoots. 

 

 

Gaia

"Gaia, Gaia" called out a middle-aged Dutch lady as she stepped out of her villa in the garden complex. 

"Gaia, come" she shouted, glancing left and right.

No response. 

Manju and I were sitting on a low wall nearby waiting to pick up our daughters after Kathak class.

“Have you seen Gaia?” the lady asked us.

“No” we said.

The lady walked around looking for her dog.

“How did you know that we knew Gaia?” I asked her.

“Everybody knows Gaia” she replied. 

Just then we spotted Gaia in the central garden area. She was playing with two fat cats. With her tail curled in a circle, she was chasing them. 

When she heard her name called out, she walked towards us, tail wagging. Her beauty is regal - thick spotless white fur, gentle eyes, sharp pointed ears, and a graceful gait. She has the majesty of the Greek mother goddess, Earth, that she has been named after. 

Gaia befriends everyone she meets and never loses the opportunity to scoot into a Kathak lesson in progress, much to the amusement of the girls. 

As she's mostly outdoors, she understands the languages of all the people of various nationalities who speak to her. 

Gaia brings a smile to every face and lights up my day whenever I see her. 

I will miss Gaia when we leave Muscat for good next month. 

Jebel Shams: A Salute to the Sun

 

The enormity of the landscape is astounding. 

It tells the million-year-old story of the geological upheavals that created the canyons, the tremendous pressure that shook the ocean floor and exposed the earth’s insides and laid them out in folds and layers of molten stone and sand. 

The echo of the rumble can still be felt in an inaudible visual gasp.

Perhaps it had happened in a multitude of millions of years...or perhaps in the scope of a single day. 

The sun has been a silent witness to the epical unfolding of this topographical drama.

This is the place where the sun’s rays plant the first kiss on the Omani soil every morning. 

A Surya Namaskar, a salute to this mighty sun...

/Om Mitraaya Namah /

One who is friendly to all

There were eleven of us, friends and friends of friends – Surya, Anna, Royce, Sanaa, Reena, Bindu, Raju, Deepmala, Balaji, Stephen and I.

The heat in the city of Muscat during the month of May can hit dizzying records. It was a warm and inviting sun which greeted us at 7.15 am when we started our journey towards the Hajar Mountain Range in Northern Oman which features the highest peak in the country, Jebel Shams – the Mountain of the Sun, and Wadi Ghul – the Grand Canyon of Arabia.

/Om Ravaye Namah /

One who shines

The radiance followed us as our 4WDs moved from city speeds of 100 km/h to highway speeds of 120 km/h. Bindu, Deepmala, and I took the steering wheels while Balaji, Raju, and Stephen coordinated with each other about navigation. 

We took a short halt at a wayside eatery and discussed the road strategy ahead. The next halt was uphill to take in the view. That was when we came across the first of the several mountain goats we saw on our trip. She eagerly feasted on orange rinds – the only treats we could give her.

/Om Suryaya Namah /

One who dispels darkness and generates activity

Full of positive spirit, and taking turns at the steering wheel, we approached the Jebel Shams Resort at 11.30 am. 

Raju had used his negotiation skills to get a good deal on the current rates at the resort. Perched near the canyon, the resort offers a cluster of chalets having all the basic amenities for a comfortable overnight stay, a swimming pool, and a wonderful view of the sunset. 

Each chalet has a barbecue pit in the back which held a special interest for Surya and Royce. At the picnic tables, Anna and Sanaa sipped on cool drinks.

/Om Bhaanave Namah /

One who illuminates 

Although bright, the temperature was moderate at the height of approximately 2,800 m. 

Mountain goats with long hair in shades of cream and brown cleverly climbed up in impossible places like the tops of skeletal trees.  Some of them took shelter from the strong light under whatever feeble  shade they could find.

/Om Khagaya Namah /

One who is all-pervading, one who moves through the sky

It was a calm day and bunches of pure white clouds floated idly in the sky. 

In the blazing mid-day sun, basked high-flying Egyptian Vultures. 

Meanwhile, three engineers in our group debated about the direction in which their droppings would fall. Stephen was quite sure it would be on his head. 

/Om Pooshne Namah /

One who gives nourishment and fulfilment

Balaji had thoughtfully packed homemade tamarind rice and lemon rice for lunch. Raju and Stephen had brought snacks and drinks. 

The resort staff provided a sumptuous Arabic dinner and a continental breakfast. It was incredible to eat such wholesome food in the inhospitable terrain where we had planned to stay overnight.

On our evening walk, we came across an Omani colleague of Balaji and Stephen who was driving back home with his family. He stopped to offer us fresh, sun-blushed apricots – a bounty of the rugged mountains. 

/Om Hiranya Garbhaya Namah /

One who has a golden- coloured brilliance

The setting sun brought a soft golden glow to the landscape. With a little coaxing, Sanaa was inspired to sing melodiously – 

“Tonight the super trouper

Lights are gonna find me

Shining like the sun

Smiling, having fun

Feeling like a number one.”  

/Om Mareechaye Namah /

One who gives light with infinite rays

The raw morning sun rays touched the mountain.

They shone on flaming pomegranate flowers and bushes of pink roses. Wide awake, goats bleated morning greetings in the distance.  The chill slowly gave way to warmth.

My early morning walk fetched a unique discovery – a dried up clump of low vegetation with translucent leaves so fragile that they would crumble if touched. The rays of the sun passed through the leaves as if they were made of clear glass. 

/Om Adityaaya Namah /

One who is the son of Aditi, the cosmic divine mother

Along the stone paths, Deepmala noticed fossils of small ancient sea creatures embedded in the black rocks streaked with white marble. 

It was impossible to lose track of the geological history of the landscape while walking around these mountains.

/Om Savitre Namah /

One who is responsible for life

Jebel Shams stands tall at more than 3000 m but what is more fascinating is the deep Wadi Ghul lying alongside it. The Wadi or dry riverbed is also called the Grand Canyon of Arabia because of the deep vertical fissure it exposes. 

Several species of cacti and sparse vegetation thrive here in isolated patches. A few houses of local shepherds and a pop-up stall selling handicrafts made from goat hair were the only signs of civilization in these parts. 

/Om Arkaaya Namah /

One who is worthy of praise and glory

 Reena, who has flown the nest to join college overseas, draped her arm around her mum's shoulders and chatted animatedly with her.

The starkness of nature here contrasts vividly with the security of being with people you love.

Thoughts of gratitude for divine blessings arise. 

/Om Bhaskaraya Namah /

One who gives wisdom and cosmic illumination

A spray of innumerable stars graced the moonless sky at night.

Witnessing such celestial majesty brings home the truth of our own insignificant lives. 

Bindu cleverly captured a shooting star on her phone camera.
 

For those of us who missed this heavenly sight, there is always a next time.

Inshallah!