From peels to plenty

I was pleasantly surprised one morning when I found little plants in our pot. They looked like vegetable plants, but we couldn’t quite figure out what exactly they were. As they grew, the leaves took on an artistic cut, like delicate lace work along the edges, almost ornamental in their beauty.

It was a delight to watch the plant turn into a creeper, its tendrils reaching out and clinging gently to the railing. We kept wondering which vegetable it might be, recalling how I had emptied a dish of assorted seeds and peels into the pot. Soon, small yellow flowers began to appear; fingers crossed, we hoped they would not all drop off. The few that remained slowly swelled and revealed themselves as little bitter gourds. Our happiness knew no bounds.

After a few days, the bitter gourds were ready to be plucked, and a succulent dish of bitter gourd became the star of the dining table. The family loved it, and the long, much-ignored vegetable turned into the star attraction among all the plants.

I replanted the seeds, and more plants came up; now we knew what treat to expect. Sometimes, amid the dense foliage, a serendipitous discovery would result in a whoop—a prettily patterned bitter gourd nestled there quietly, perfectly camouflaged by the leaves. The bitter gourd creepers were here to stay, and every month, they gifted us their abundance.

The pleasures of gardening are unparalleled. There is a farmers’ market every Sunday in our town, where farmers from in and around Mangaluru come by to sell their home-grown produce. After experiencing the joy of growing our own produce at home, we now relate to them in a more personal way. It doesn’t matter how large or small the vegetable is; the simple fact that it is home-grown and nurtured under watchful, loving care makes it taste more delicious and richer.

My father was in the judiciary, and we were transferred every three to five years. In every place we lived, he would begin work on a vegetable garden—beans, cauliflower, peas, tomatoes, bottle gourd, and much more. Our neighbours were always recipients of this fresh produce. “While books be your best companions, make plants your friends,” he would tell me, a lesson that has endured.

The joys of sowing and reaping are unsurpassed; for what we sow, we reap. As parts of this circle of life, let the wheels of fortune spin gently, yielding the best of the harvest that is sown and, in doing so, making the world around us a better place to live.

(Disclaimer: The views expressed above are the author's own. They do not necessarily reflect the views of DH.)