I made it a habit of talking to plants first thing in the morning. The were lush green, flowering and gave joy to the heart.
Is it the summer? Is it the end of their lifetimes? Is it some negligence on my part?
My rose that bloomed non stop for three months is now leafless and its stem is becoming brown.
My tulsi dried, the next one never took off and the third is on probation.
One strain of money-plant is drying up.
My crotons have dried up. One set of plants I got from my brother died in a day, but the seeds are buried there, and I dread to do anything in a hurry lest I don't give it the chance that it deserves.
Yes, there are some healthy, flourishing plants too in the balcony. But somehow, I hesitate to go to them, to talk to them, feeling overwhelmed and guilty. Do I give them hope of fresh life as the season changes, or do I have to root them out and look for fresh plants?
Is this decision easy? It brings with it the weight of responsibility of caring for another life, of taking a decision on whether it is truly dead or if life is dormant, needing just the right circumstances to spring back to life. It seems easier to step back and wait, not go one way or the other.