Our patch of land

 This land is your land

This land is my land

From the electric pole here

To the cashewnut tree there

This land is your land 

This land is my land

Look, here's the natal grass

And see the monkeys sass

This land was made for you and me

- With apologies to Woodie Guthrie

Two weeks ago, our patch of land (that Durga has bestowed upon the grandiose name "Our Secret Garden") was over-run with weeds. Now, with regular watering, weeding and visiting, our patch is slowly turning into a familiar friend.

This is a big badam tree in the middle of our plot. Thanks to its bounty, we have lots and lots of mulch and a never-ending supply of compost around it.

This neem also the first sapling planted by RK, Ani and Durga. Last year it was still quite a tiny little thing. It's already become taller than me. 

Here are all the saplings we have planted:

The third tree we have planted on this land... we think it's a guava though it could be something else, I suppose. I got this sapling free from the Forest Department booth at the Bangalore Tech Summit 3 years ago. Am relieved it has survived my care all these years. The second tree we planted was a mango, but since we were not coming regularly to water it, over time, it died. This particular sapling loves the shade and for now, seems to be doing ok. 

If you look hard in this patch of mulch beneath the badam tree, there's a tiny kadipatta (curry leaf) plant coming up by itself. 

This kadipatta below is one that was given to me by my mother-in-law. This is daughter of the massive tree at her house in Kolar, which in turn is the daughter of the tree that used to live in Sheshadripuram in our house (it died when the house was left alone for a decade after my father in law's aunt passed away). Coincidentally, that old tree (the original matriarch) also gave the seed for the tree that is now in our neighbor's house and whose leaves touch Durga's room's windows and whose fruits are eaten by red whiskered bulbuls that come and chirp there every day. I adore the fact that we can trace the lineage of this tree back at least 3 generations. I had tried to grow a kadipatta from the neighbor's tree a few years ago, managed it well for almost 3 years and then accidentally killed it during the first wave of Covid last year (was in lab all the time and forgot to water it... poor thing) 

Grow well, my beauty. I hope you find this land as safe and comfortable as your old Kolar one.

Another little sapling is the mango. This mango originally came all the way from Gorakhpur in Uttar Pradesh. My mother in law's cousin sister lives there, and a sapling from their tree was brought carefully by my MIL by train all the way back to Kolar. It's called Amrapali and bears small slender fruit which don't turn yellow, but are very sweet once ripe. 

Do you know we too have a mango tree at our house in Sheshadripuram? It used to bear fruits that were splendidly sour when raw but were totally tasteless when ripe. Over the past year (maybe because of the compost or Perry's poop), the fruit has become incredibly sweet and indeed, our mangoes are among the best I have eaten this year. I should probably take a sapling of this tree and plant it in the farm as well. 

I believe mango trees are actually very intelligent. My Ajji had planted 2 in our old house in Rajajinagar Bangalore. They grew well but refused to fruit, no matter what she did. Then one day, she stood underneath them and threatened to cut them down if they didn't fruit. Sure enough, the following season, both trees erupted with so many fruits that even after distributing them to all our neighbors and friends, we were still left with many bags. Come to think of it, I need to get some seeds from those trees and plant them in our farm too. It would be an awesome story to tell the kids.

Our tree too, I think, is emotionally quite connected with us. When we moved in, the tree just knew that we had cut its branches to make way for the construction of the house. No doubt it was quite upset. Thus our fruits that year were as described above. Over time, it has served as our defacto compost bin and eats several kgs of fruit and vegetable peels a day, gets Perry's poop put on its soil, and has many different species of animals, birds and insects living on it (at least 3 species of ants, one of which is highly aggressive; many garden lizards, lots of bats that feed off its fruits, crows, bulbuls, parakeets and maybe sunbirds too and at least 3 extremely noisy squirrels). Its trunk serves as the wicket for Ani's cricket teams, it's soil is routinely dug by Perry and a few bandicoots (when Perry is not watching) and it probably hears Durga singing from her room right beside its upper branches. Hence the sweet fruit!

This is a banana tree, also courtesy my MIL. This, if it grows, will yield big red bananas. My MIL had especially eyed it for our farm and kept it safe for us to cut and bring it from her garden.

Finally, here's the natal grass from the poem above: 

Is there anything in the world as soft as the flowers of the natal grass? Maybe only Perry's ears.

Grow well, my lovely plants! May you thrive and have many babies!