One Blossom In The Shadows

By Rakshith J

When I was a little boy, I always wondered “when will I grow up?” I think every kid at that age feels the same way, growing up meant we get more control and freedom over our lives. Of course, who wants to take permission to use the restroom or leave the math class when it was turning out to be boring?

Growth, in the boost fed dimension, would take us around two weeks to grow taller, stronger, and sharper. But to my horror, reality was different. No matter how many boost milkshakes I drank, it never made me grow tall, instead, all I got was a milky mustache for my satisfaction. The fact that growth is slow and takes effort was hard for me to understand and accept. Meanwhile my BBFs (Big bully friends) were excited about clipping a parker pen in their shirt pockets, wearing a pencil fit pant with a slim fit blazer, and checking out their face in the mirror for any traces or signs of beard or mustache. They also had fun bullying us. This bothered the "Chotu’s" in the front seat, including me. We were like the poor helpless drivers who led the line straight from assembly field to class and vice versa. But even though we grew smarter and stronger, we remained of the same height. However, this one-sided battle kept going on.

One sunny Sunday afternoon, my friend Amar and I took to the road barefoot, debating on the opportunities in sports for people who are dwarf. A cricket match was taking place in the field. We both walked on the stepped raised platform, on the periphery of the irregularly shaped field. The shade from the mango trees cooled down the place and made it a good place to hang out in the afternoons. Suddenly Amar paused on hearing Bharat,

“Oey Amar, can you get the Ball?”

Amar stepped down to fetch it as I stood there scanning for mangoes in the tree, with my hands in my black jersey pocket circling around the same spot. I noticed something unfamiliar near the foot of the tree. I nudged all the dry leaves, stones and sticks away from it with my foot and hovered down to take a closer look at it. And that is where I found the little dicot lying there with its pale green stem projecting out its light green embryonic shoot off the tip of the plant bearing a pair of disks like head called the dicotyledon, with slightly tilted head it felt like the sapling was blushing away from the sight of a giant yellowish-brown rotten mango from nearby distance.

“Hey! What are you doing man? What are you doing there?” Amar stood in front of me with his hands on his hip.

“Amar, look at this. “I said.

“Wow” exclaimed Amar.

“Do you remember? It is the same plant we studied in science class.” I said to him.

“Yeah, I remember, which plant is this?” said Amar, scratching his head.

“It’s called a dicotyledon, you idiot!” I answered him.

“It’s my stammering problem.” said Amar.

“I get it.” I spoke.

“Yeah man. Look it is in its tender stage. Let me pick it up for you we can grow it in the room.” He spoke.

Amar knelt and placed his right hand over the delicate stem interrupting it from the date mood and then uprooted it from the soil, he then stood up from the ground squashing the rotten mango under his right foot.

“Yew” he exclaimed.

“Look out bro” I replied.

Scrubbing his foot against the edge of concrete step getting rid of heavy viscous dark yellow blood of the filthy fruit. Handing over the plant in my hands.

“Here, take it safely to the room.” He spoke. Dusting his hands off against his jersey and giving a wild gaze at the squashed fruit.

“Okey, but I hope it will stay alive.” I told him.

“Let’s see what happens man.” Amar replied.

I put the sapling in my pocket and went back. Later, Amar and I planted it in a plastic jam jar in the dormitory garden area. After we accomplished the task, we both relaxed on the steps in front of the dormitory entrance which was under the shade of overhang slab. Amar patted his dirty mud-stained hand on the back of my shoulders said, “Good job, well done my boy, well done.”

“You better take your hands off me before you stain my night shirt. “I said to him.

“Don’t worry man, my hands are clean see take a look.” He replied giving a smirk.

“Badmash come here.” I spoke.

He laughed and ran away into the dorm. I took the jar and chased him. During those days we were jobless, so we engaged our mind in practicing such stupid acts of chasing each other, capturing tadpoles, making house for snails, and later this plant. It did not make sense back then, but that is how a child grows, enjoying their imperfection in a perfect manner, just fearlessly following.

their heart which made them explore nature in stupidest way possible and that is how they turn out to be unique and authentic.

Later, after reaching the room, I placed the plant on the windowsill, clearing the space and shifted all the towels which were hung on the railings to the other window, and warned Abhi to watch his foot when he is getting down from the top bunker bed. I watered the plant every day after coming back from the school. And with a strong intention to see it progress, I woke up early in the morning to check whether it had grown to cross the height of the jar rim, but it resisted to grow, still taking the low ground like a wounded little puppy hiding inside a pit separated from its family. So, I gave it another try and continued to cater to its needs, with each day passing it remained the same. With my patience waning, I decided to abounded the plant in my cupboard, in the dingy, unorganized, messy place. I locked it up in the dark and I left for Dusshera and Deepavali holidays, thinking it would not survive. At the same time, I forgot about a thing I left back in the cupboard along with the plant was the time. However, the long vacation was in the blink of an eye, and I was back from home to hostel with a sorrowful heart and a fake smile on my face. Handing over all the luggage in hands, my parents stood near the gate until I vanished into the dorm with mixed emotions running on mind. I was about to cry, but I held back the tears till I reached my room. Noticing the room empty, I fell onto the ground bursting out into tears. I sat in front of my cupboard kneeling; I dropped the luggage next to me. After a while I could hear some footsteps heading towards me. I immediately wiped my face with my hands to look normal and then the sound of the footstep paused in front of the room. It was Abhi conversing with someone else, so I took a deep breath and unlocked the cupboard still kneeling I opened the shutter, rubbing my palms on my eyes to clear the blurriness I could still not believe what I saw for a moment.

“Hey bro, how are you?” said Abhi.

Suddenly hearing his voice, I hide my face behind the shutter for a second to clear my eyes and then I replied “Good! How are you?”

“Hey, what's wrong?” he asked.

With a stimulus to respond nothing was wrong, I stood up suddenly banging my head to the upper bunker bed.

“Ouch, sorry nothing happened just allergy, take a look at that” I said.

“What, are you okay?” he asked.

Rubbing my head with my palm I asked him to look inside the cupboard by pointing my index finger at it.

“Wow, how come bro?” Abhi asked.

“I have no idea, bro. I left it here inside in the dark, and I did not expect it to grow into a six-inch-tall plant,” I said.

“Without light how it is possible?” Abhi asked raising his eyebrows.

“I guess the keyhole must have been like a tiny window of hope for our little plant buddy,” I replied, winking at Abhi.

“But what about the water? It cannot survive without water,” Abhi pointed out.

“I think our plant must have been secretly stealing sips from my water bottle when I wasn't here,” I said, grinning.

Abhi rolled his eyes, “Wait, so you're telling me our plant was living off your hydration habits?” I nodded my head shamelessly.

“Were your stinky socks inside the wardrobe?” I nodded my head. “Well then it must have gone through a hard time man.” he said.

I chuckled at Abhi's remark and said, "Yeah, I think it deserves to live after surviving in such a harsh environment."

Abhi smiled and said, "Well, let's take care of it from now on. We can keep it near the window and water it regularly."

"Sure, let's do that," I replied.

As we took the plant out of the cupboard and placed it near the window, I could not help but feel a sense of joy and gratitude towards this unexpected gift of nature. It reminded me that life can thrive even in the most unexpected and difficult circumstances, and that sometimes all it takes is a little care and attention to help it flourish. Things changed from there on. Everyone in dorm liked the idea and got one for themselves, one which suited their personality. Soon every room had at least one plant. When things were all going fine, I had a good meal which made me feel little drowsy, so I decided to take a nap. It was a sunny afternoon, as I entered the room, I encountered a senior who was storming out of the room with a tennis ball in his hand.

With an angry stare, he looked at me and said, “Hey Chotu move aside.” And I was confused of his visit, usually I delay my reaction to sudden encounters, getting frustrated, tightening the grip on the tennis ball he pushed me with his left hand and charged out, I was extremely disappointed with his behavior and really felt bad for not retaliating back. Anyway, this was the case with all the bullies so I got up and went to room as I stood near the door threshold, I could notice everyone were crowded near the window and on my arrival, they stopped whispering, Abhi scratching his head stepped towards me placing his hand my shoulder he explained on how the misfortune had taken place. It all happened because of a gap between the floor slab and the curtainwall, which bought the ball down like a drunken sailor. It did give warning before its free fall while spinning on the transom of the glass wall and by the time everyone realized the ball spined off from the edge, came crashing down. On hearing this I went near the window, the pot looked like a candle with a short wick on the top. With all the tears

rolling out from my eyes, I sat down on my knees, and I started to look for the other half. With the moist eyes, I looked like a blind man searching for his dog, Amar lifted me up with his hands and handed me the other half.

Wiping my tears, I said “This is all I wanted.”

“Don’t cry man” Amar tried to console me placing his both hands on my shoulder’s he shook me and said, “It will grow back.”

Laughing out loud, I said “What? who is crying? I am not crying.” “So, what are those tears for. “He asked.

“These are just happy tears.” I replied.

“What are you happy for?” he said.

“I am happy for what just happened here” I replied cleaning up my running nose with my half sleeve night shirt.

“Are you not disappointed bro” asked Abhi.

“No not at all, are you guys sad? Anyways do you really want the reason why I am not sad.” “Yea bro”

“It's the fact that when I wished it to grow it did not and when I abounded, it grows tall and then now when I was expecting to see it grow completely, it cut me down again, is this a joke?” I replied crushing the other half in my hand and mind.

Everyone left me alone thinking I went crazy, and I could hear them addressing me as psycho. After everyone left the room, I stood there alone and later went to bed. Till date, I do not know whether I was happy, sad, crazy or was I trying to hide the fact that the plant really did not want my help to grow. It was me who tried to reflect myself in it, and its presence in my life had provided a sense of satisfaction seeing it grow.

I still remember that afternoon when I was taking a nap with my dry tears on my cheeks browsing in my head for answers for the questions in my lungs, with each round of inhaling and exhaling there was a huge debate happening in my head by with each question flashing one after the other not giving me time to think for an answer. It was like the evening tv news debate show with Arnab Grow-swami, why did it choose to grow in the dark, would it still grow I watered, should I stop depending on it, was it avenging for the loss of her companion the gross mango, does the life post.

success/post growth still taste the same or was the plant’s ability to grow in the dark which made it unique and special with which it could suppress the defect of not able to thrive in a normal environment. It has been almost a decade after this incident, and still I remember the kind of lesson that twelve-year-old kid inside me took from a plant which did nothing as expected just stood there still leaning on the window railing with hands like leaves. Stood there watching me make a fool out of myself.

Later, in my ninth grade, my history teacher quoted a thought that stuck with me, “You cannot change the fact about your disability, but remember you can always suppress it with your personality.”

By Rakshith J