Growing pains.

I learnt a new word today. Emaho. A Tibetan-Sanskrit exclamation of wonder, to mean fantastic, amazing, a marvelous view of the world.

Frankly, I find very little that’s wonderful or amazing these days, forget fantastic. In any case, we have managed to successfully demote an amazing word like amazing, by using it whenever we are at a loss for words to describe anything, from fried spinach to detergents.So,although I did think that emaho was a great word, I filed it away dutifully in my head, unlikely to be brought out soon.

However, I did look desultorily through the day, to see if anything deserved emaho and came up with nothing, although admittedly, the salted caramel chocolate I had just discovered,could put in a claim.

Then I happened to wander into my little patch of green. Emaho didn’t burst forth from my lips, neither did I have a moment of epiphany but as I stared at the sight before me in disbelief, it would have been quite legit.

For there was my most disobedient gardenia plant, which I had bought from a street vendor eighteen months ago, planted it in the right sunny but not too sunny spot, fed it with all the right organic foods, watered it just right, talked to it and waited with happy expectancy, to see the two shell like buds it came with, burst into bloom.

The buds stayed buds and then fell off. Both of them. From then on the plant decided to stay sternly on the path to heaven, growing upwards plentifully, in a ramrod straight line but with nary a bud in sight, impervious to all entreaties to start flowering.

The equally foxed mali, consoled and condoled, murmuring something about it not being the right season( through 18 months) recommending a change of scene etc but the most pampered plant in the garden, remained heedless. Only leaves, no flowers, seemed to be it’s life’s mission.

Today, after an year and a half of passive resistance that would have made Gandhiji proud, it had finally been moved to produce a single white, perfectly perfect, gardenia with that intoxicating scent that drives perfumiers crazy and a favourite of singer, Billie Holiday, who wore it in her hair during concerts.

It’s probably a bit hasty and in line with one swallow doesn’t a summer make but a single velvety white, divinely fragrant flower, framed by lush green, glossy leaves, blooming for the first time after months, filled me with emotions which can only be described by one equally perfect word. Emaho.

Amazing, fantastic, wonderful, a marvelous realization of all the possibilities of the world around us.

Published by Diti Sen

An independent writer and author, currently exploring blogging, tracking life from India and ready to explore anything from the tried and tested to the wierd and the eclectic. You will find, nature, travel, food, children, folklore, customs, myths, festivals, reflections, inspirations, hope, amongst many other things here. Anything that makes me think and ponder and want to know more about, shared in an informative and entertaining sort of way.

4 thoughts on “Growing pains.

  1. Yes, it’s always mixed experiences with plants we get from street vendors. Some of them flourish, while some of them stay stubborn, that’s what my experience is with my indoor plants, I do love them by the way :). Nice post. Loved reading it, particularly the Billie Holiday part, being an avid music listener and music lover myself for many years now.


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