The garden at my Mum’s place is one of my most cherished belonging.At many times, I have tried to capture its beauty in my words , but words failed me – what I feel for this garden goes much deeper than how it looks or what I write.I have written many drafts and posts on my older blogs about my garden. I’d write next one compiling them in a post but there is a story , with my garden as backdrop, which lay in draft , and is close to my heart .Here it is .
Banana trees in our garden
A neighbourhood tale
Once upon a time, there were lot of kids,lots and lots of them -and they all liked to play in one particular garden , because that was the largest garden in the neighborhood(our garden that is ).And then there was my dad.He used to take care of the garden , and made sure no one picked a flower, wasted water or harmed the plants . And he had a doggy friend, who was called ..err..Doggy by our family. This doggy used to do nothing (yeah..not even barking) except wagging tail and ridding away its caretakers of guilt of wasting food.Other than garden , kids were equally fascinated by him(doggy) and it was those kids who named him Chaploos,because as they put it,he was doing Chaploosi of my dad all day long.
“We have constructed a little dog house for Bruno in your garden”, they told me . one late afternoon , as I opened the gate to answer the doorbell .
“And Who is Bruno , may I ask ? ” ,I asked looking at each one of them,standing there in a bunch with excited faces.
“Chaploos, who else?” they told me in unison.
Apparently , Chaploos had been renamed to Bruno as these naughtysome bunch of kids finally realized that they were being very unfair to Doggy by calling him Chaploos all the time and that he deserved some decent name.And that, since it was our garden where his dog house was , my family was formally informed of the decision.
Now , it was time for Bruno to arrive and see his surprise. As ,”Ded futiya”(1 and a half feet tall – the next door kid who we lovingly called so ,because of his height) watched him at the end of the street , he screamed, “Bruno aa raha hai ..Bruno aa raha hai” , it was supposed to be a surprise for him.
Bruno had a fixed time to arrive at the garden .Every evening , when my dad would have his evening tea with biscuits , Bruno would come wagging his tail and sit beside him . We kept wondering where all the supply of biscuits was vanishing . Not a long time after , dad revealed with puppy eyes that it was him feeding “bhau” secretly on biscuits.( with his speech problem , the only word in my dad’s vocabulary for dogs was “bhau ” after their barking sound)
Now , as he reached the garden’s gate, he hesitated to see so many kids together and stopped there.He had been a victim of lot of pranks of these kids and wasn’t up for it anymore .But the kids , patting him and encircling him like he was a king ceremonially directed him to the dog house. The dog house made up of clay ,marbles and yeah,tiles was a little too small to get a fully grown dog like him to accommodate. But . intelligent he was , realized , it meant something for the kids , and that it was some sort of kind gesture to him,so in order not to disappoint the kids, kept his paw inside the dog house.As he struggled to accommodate a little more of him , in the dog house , kids cheered and danced to celebrate the success of their project .
Now , as I finish the draft of this post , I don’t remember how long that dog house lasted , but whenever I sit in my garden , I picture my dad sitting there with his radio , wearing his spectacles , sipping his tea and complaining that “bhau” didn’t come for his biscuits.
I miss you dad, I miss you the most in our garden , its not the same without you.