The Storm that Surged Strength

“I'm planting a tree to teach me to gather strength from my deepest roots.” ― Andrea Koehle 

It seemed as if God was infuriated with us. The pandemicCOVID 19 had siphoned Mumbai and Pune and to add to the misery, cyclone Nisarga eyed Maharashtra as its choicest places to make its landfall. There was incessant rainfall for a day before the landfall. We enjoyed the tranquillity that followed a humid summer. The plants beamed with their sparkling leaves, and the flowers skipped, bounced and toyed in joy. The plants grew in large flower pots, they grew beyond their abilities and were the best but their growth was stifled. We felt we would transplant the plants that had grown beyond their means to survive in the flowerpots to a larger green expanse. The priority was for the Christmas plant which was more than three feet tall. My husband was fond of the plant. He said, ‘I will move it to the lawned area in our office’. The plants on the front side were mostly flowering. The huge Aloe vera rested in the corner. It had smaller plants growing from its roots. The pot next to it had a pale yellowish pink leaf with a long stout stem. There were a few smaller leaves attached to it. I hadn’t seen it for long, I mean my eyes hadn’t rested on it for long. I remember the day, my husband had brought one succulent leaf wrapped in a covering. The leaf seemed tired by the air travel, my husband smilingly unwrapped the leaf and asked me to leave it in the pot. I did not fancy touching the leaf for it was just a bract. I asked him, ‘What’s special about this plant, is it a croton?’ He said, ‘It bears the most beautiful flowers’. I couldn’t believe it. But it was fast to adapt to the soil in the flower pot and grew really well. 

That year in the month of July, we had the most beautiful flower called the Brahma-Kamal, Saussurea Obvallata. It bloomed at ten in the night and wilted in the morning. Its flower was large with a maroon calyx and pale white petals that revealed a diamond made out of the tangled tendrils of the style and stigma. The plant gave rise to new leaves and the end of the leaf turned into a sturdy stem. We plucked a leaf and planted a new plant. We soon had three plants and the next year the plants bore 12 flowers, six fell off as buds but six of the buds bloomed on two different days. I lit an incense stick, dabbled the plant with some vermillion powder for people said it was auspicious. We soon forgot about it. It would always grow lush green in April and would give rise to new leaves till September.

Cyclone Nisarga was moving fast to the coast, it was to make landfall near Alibaug in Maharashtra. The Meteorological Department said it would then move towards Mumbai, the National Disaster Management team was ready to help people. People had been evacuated near the coastlines and sheltered in safe places. We looked around at the plants in our balcony in concern wondering whether they would be able to handle the cyclonic winds and rain, they seemed safe. The smaller pots were moved to a safer zone. The winds began blowing through the narrow gullies between the buildings and exploded in the open spaces. The plants fluttered, twitched and quivered in the cold sharp winds. I saw my husband looking crazily at the Christmas tree that seemed to be flinging and heaving itself towards the kitchen window. The Ginger plant, Periwinkle, Bamboo shoots and almost all the plants were trying to keep themselves tied to their places. I did not want a single plant to get uprooted due to the horrifying winds We glanced lovingly at every one of them for they were precious. Whenever life was splendid or onerous these growing green plants had shaped our spirits. I lay my eyes on each one of them for long, it was raining continuously but steadily.

My eyes finally rested on the stout stem of the Brahma-kamal. It was calm and serene, its leaves weren’t bright green, it was yellowish and puckered. I stroked a hand on it. Though it's perennial, it is inactive from the month of October and reinstates in April but this year, it seemed lifeless. I saw the leaf support the large phyllode of the Aloe Vera which would have flown with the wind but for the pale yellow leaf of Brahma-Kamal. The stout stalk had bent across the wall as if it refused to see me. I grew emotional, I stroked amy hand on the smooth leaf. The cyclonic wind came crashing once again. The plants threw their bodies across but kept their heads low, they took the winds and the lashing rain calmly. Their roots were strong, sunk deep and they did not fear nature. 

The sun shone brilliantly the next morning leaving hardly any traces of the cyclone. It was bright and sunny and my plants had their cheerful smiles as usual, they tried to stand upright and showed  subtle nuances of spiritual strength.

“When the storms of life hit, you have to anchor down with your feet firmly planted on the ground. The winds will blow, the trees will shake but you my dear, will not break!” ― Sanjo Jendayi