More than five or six years back, the lemon tree was planted. But it never started yielding, and it looked as if it might die. My wife was upset and would stand near the tree and literally talk to it and pray. And believe it or not, it spruced up by itself and is now yielding. Plants need love and affection more than soil and nutrients. Every visit of my sons would mean new plants would be bought. Over a period, some exotic plants have been acquired. The Raat ki Raani, Kamini, Magarantham, etc., provide a heavenly aroma.

Nearly fourteen years have passed since construction. The garden looks whole and beautifully landscaped. The sapota and guava trees are back in full, tickling our palates. Seasonal vegetables are grown. The yield is small, but how does it matter?

Birds and squirrels are back. Only the sparrows are missing.

The birds’ sound I can hear. But how do I know the rest? I ask my wife; she is my eyes.

There was a time I was fond of star gazing. The sky was an attraction for me. I have now forgotten how a sky looks. So many times, I confuse some light with the moon. I have learned to accept that.

When the plants bear vegetables, my wife would pick and show them to me. I will just touch and feel. Similarly, with flowers. My wife has never hesitated to part with flowers when asked by any neighbor. Yet a few neighbors just lean over the compound and pluck the flowers. Even this is fine. But they will not care to leave flowers for us. More than that, they do not even know how to handle the plants. They would pull them this way and that. What to say about these people?

Why am I writing four parts on this? Because when my vision was not as bad, and more so after taking retirement, I could have taken more interest in gardening, enjoyed the sights, sounds, and smells, and been with them. I wasted those opportunities. Now I regret I cannot see these plants, birds, flowers, and vegetables—why, any part of nature. My wife will occasionally take me around the garden, explaining what plants are there.

The value of anything we have is never appreciated. Only when it is lost do we realize it is invaluable.

Continued in 235 - Not So Loudspeaker - Part 1