Sin outsourced

I have read about it in the story of Jack and the Bean stalk. I have watched on Nat Geo, animated images of raindrops waking up dormant seeds in parched lands and new plants spring up all over. But this was the first time I got to see a similar magic in real life!

My cooking counter is right beneath the window that opens into the backyard. As such, I stand a minimum of three hours, every day, facing the grill on the compound wall that marks the boundary of our site. Which is why I am surprised that I missed spotting the bright green leaves on the brown steel rod, earlier. For when I did that morning, it had already scaled two horizontal bars and was close to reaching the third.

The growing end of the climber was touchingly tender. It was entwined around the vertical bar just the way a baby’s tiny fingers close around a finger of an adult. But the plant clearly was no infant. The ground on the other side of the compound was at a lower level and so invisible part of the plant itself was at least four feet tall. I was curious to see how the spineless stem managed to do the rope trick and reach the bars.

Gita manifested herself on the plant side of the divide. There was of course nothing magical about that as this neighbour of mine spent a great deal of time lovingly watching over the flora that thrived freely in her land. “It’s a Dipladenia” she declared with a bright smile “In February-March, the vine would be covered with bunches of gorgeous pink flowers.”

I have always been in awe of the ease with which this lady could identify the plants and reel off their Botanical names. “I am amazed that the climber has grown by itself! I can’t wait to see the flowers”, she gushed. A weak smile was all I could manage. For what I could visualise were not bunches of gorgeous flowers but a canopy of dense foliage that would obliterate the precious light coming into my kitchen. I wanted to tell Gita that, but I was too vain to admit that I wasn’t as appreciative of the finer things in life.  

But I knew only too well that the plant had to be dislodged before it established itself even more widely. Yet the idea troubled me deeply and I couldn’t get myself to put the thought into action. To deny badly needed support to a weak, living thing seemed terribly mean and cruel. I was damned if I did; damned if I didn’t.

It was Pranav’s logic that ultimately showed the way out. Mr.Subramaniam, the six year old boy’s grandfather was horrified to hear his grandson (on a visit from the US) declare that chicken was his favourite food. The orthodox old man put forth points for vegetarianism and said it was cruel to kill animals. Pat came the reply, “but thatha, I didn’t kill it!” Next day, when the maid came in to work, I told her to unwind the vine and drop it down.