And with wonder I looked at the plant; the crippled climber which had climbed the fence next to the rows of earthen flower tubs. Tubs with flowering plants of different Indian and foreign species. Some bore red, some blue, some sunset yellow flowers and some, the mixture of all beautiful shades. There were roses, chrysanthemums, dahlias and some difficultly pronounced seasonal flowers. But the dark red rose plant was my favorite.
I had brought it when it was just a sapling and for which the nursery man had charged me a lot. He had promised that it would bear roses…dark red ones…and with dark red dreams I had prepared the soil bed. Mixing pungent sun dried cow dung with soil and other fertilizers I made it a home. Forgetting my need for water I watered it thrice a day, protected it from storm and hail....from insects...from enemies….
Beside it grew the valueless climber. Which I never bothered to give a home…."what would it bear???? Some small dull blue flowers? which doesn’t even have a proper smell". I never had much water and compost for it and it was the leftovers which was given..even I never bothered to look if it had died..
My dark red rose plant grew large and strong…but never bore a rose…. And with waiting eyes when I look up, I find the crippling glory…all the way to the top of the fence..with sparkling blue flowers, had climbed my MORNING GLORY...