I wish if plants could read.. letters? This one’s for my new little sapling that I got recently from Calcutta. Needless to say, Bougainvillea is my favourite; but this tiny, sickly looking, stick figure has got my heart. I wish it grows well, someday.
Of everything in my red and white school building, what appealed me the most was the boulevard at the entry gate leading to the central campus. The collapsible iron gates, layered over and over with black paint stood decked with cascading bougainvillea like a Hawaiian princess. from happy pinks in the summer to the deeper tinge of magenta is rain, it was always this iridescence that used to hold me. A shade, a happy place on the world- since my childhood, I have always yearned to have bougainvillea canopying the door of my house- in all mauves, rust, yellow with peeking green. It was as satisfying as reading Neruda with Cherry Martini beside, on the rooftop one odd evening.
The gush of lightness was needed in my balcony. I wanted it to manouver through all the strains, hostility to redeem into perfect delight.
I know you like your previous home- the open sky would let you to surge infinitely from all the side. From a rooftop patch coming down straight to a 6’x 8′ balcony is painful. I know the space I could provide you is nothing compared to the generous stretch you used to enjoy until five days ago. What I can still provide you is my tender love and care.
I was wrong in packing you harshly in a plastic bag- stuffing you had almost left you fighting for breath for 18 hours. I’m sorry i could not find a pot immediately once we reached home. But I promise that I’ll check the nets, keep birds and weeds away, pull you to shade, if required. I will look after you like I did for Cleopatra.
Let’s grow up together. Happily, against all the odds.
With sappy Love,
“In my next life
I’ll have no fingers, no toes. In my next life I’ll be
~Matthew Dickman, Bougainvillea