“The best place to find God is in a garden. You can dig for him there.”

- George Bernard Shaw

My earliest fondest memories of a garden are from some twenty years ago. This garden, next to a nondescript one-bedroom house in a College staff quarters, was the result of its owner’s relentless hard work, proudly ramped up the aesthetic quotient of its otherwise grey surroundings, and ultimately came to be the neighbour’s pride. Maintaining the garden wasn’t easy, but in fact, painstaking work. Just the act of watering all the plants and trees each day would take at least an hour. In-depth knowledge of the individual growing patterns, flowering seasons, watering and manuring needs were critical and required thorough planning and thought. It needed extensive care and hands-on maintenance that was not just time-consuming but also required the owners, my parents, to be vigilant and attentive.

Anyone who has ever moved homes would know what a painful and yet fun-filled process it is. The process of shifting is as torturous as it can be and yet the adventure and experience of doing up a new home comes with its own share of exciting discoveries and disappointing compromises. Ever since the decision had been made to move to this new house, I had starting mentally decorating my room.