Context: Its been years of trying to keep orchids alive. Every season, we try and we decide no more after it dies. Then again charmed, we try. I just repotted my Cymbidium Orchid with prayers that it will soldier through and forgo past amateurism of feeds and watering routines. In life, what all we take on without understanding the extend of care and sensitivity. Probably because our lesson are hidden not on the outcome but the process of care.
Don’t blame the gardener who out of optimism took me on
He thought I would add to his life garden
I shared his optimism in my nourished phase
Maybe he knows what it means to take me on
Gardener basked in his plentiness of sun, soil and rain
‘Hope he remembers’
‘How I receive my sun, how frequently I drain’
Our plan was to stick ongoing
He pushed himself for chances
I pushed me to be known
But someone else is holding the map
The plan is for the gardener to keep trying till his thumb turns green
And me to keep living and dying till he gets my sensitivities
I see the gardener sometimes, discouraged
He sees defeat
His mouth twitches in gloom
The bloom is work
We both are work in progress
Many seasons passed us
I couldn’t change my sensitivities
Gardener reflects back on his touchy subject
He had to give away the need to change me
I learned to make conditions of bloom clear
Neither the gardener nor I are practical
We both deserves to dream
We envisioned to keep trying
We both would take a chance on our bloom within
– Rupika Moitra
Flutter and Glide 