My journey with gardening began in the gentle hands of my Ajji (grandmother). I would watch her tend to each plant with deep dedication. She made me plant few saplings during her stay with us and this germinated my interest in gardening. She would narrate interesting stories from her garden. She often told that if my father ever bought a piece of land and built a house, we should make sure to have a beautiful garden with lots of flowers and trees surrounding it. That idea stuck with me and nutured my fascination with plants. While other kids raced to toy stores, I found myself drawn to nurseries, mesmerised by the colours and scents of blooming flowers. One April Fool’s Day, someone told me our neighbours had black roses in full bloom. I believed it instantly and rushed over, only to find it was a prank. But even that couldn’t dim my excitement. My father, always supportive, would buy me every plant I pointed towards and helped me sow it, turning our garden into a canvas of colour and vibrant life. As I grew older, my passion never faded. While most teens were drawn to shopping malls, I found my joy in flower exhibitions. The quiet beauty of petals and leaves spoke to me more than any fashion trend ever could. I’d once forgotten my college library books on the bus just to hop off early and wander through flower nurseries. I saved every bit of pocket money, not for chocolates or gifts, but to buy plants that made my heart bloom. Now, years later, my husband encourages me just as my father once did. He never questions the time or the money spent on our garden. He happily removes the weeds, and helps me around our lawn, to bring me the joy of nurturing plants. Gardening has taught me to believe in the magic of time and moment. I’ve learnt patience from watching tiny seeds push through stubborn soil, finding strength where no one expects it. This garden isn’t just a hobby , it’s where my heart feels most alive.
Our garden is a living diary, each season writing its own chapter in color and scent. Spring arrives softly, like a whisper—lavender sways in the breeze, daffodils and daisies stretch toward the sun, and Elicheer, Kalonchee, and pink jasmine bloom with quiet joy. Then summer sings out loud. Marigolds beam like tiny suns, roses unfurl in rich layers, hibiscus and petunias burst with vibrancy, and frangipani perfumes the air. Bees hum in harmony as jasmine fills the evenings with its sweet embrace. Autumn brings a gentle hush. The blooms linger, but the garden begins to exhale—chrysanthemums, camellias, and begonias soften the landscape with their muted grace. Winter, though cooler, carries its own kind of magic. Camellias continue to bloom, cyclamen and primula add delicate charm, open like porcelain dreams, and gerberas and geraniums defy the chill with their year-round color. Together, these blooms paint a portrait of time—vibrant, fragrant, and always alive.
