I am looking at the final descent of the Cassini spacecraft into Saturn’s atmosphere. As Cassini dares into the uncharted territory, I well up. There is something deeply moving and romantic about the images. I wonder what all the astronomer’s in the world must be feeling now. Wonder, excitement, awe of what awaits? As the final moments of Cassini’s life reach earth, we all wait. Wonder for the unknown. Gratefulness for the gone. The one’s who are left behind.
My heart is trying to find meaning in this unknown. The images are eerily incredible. They mend something inside me. Something heals. Not that things necessarily need mending. But I’ll take this catharsis over the rootlessness I tend to feel from time to time. Belong.
Talking of which, I got to be the new caretaker of the mini garden that came with this apartment. The plants lived. Well beyond my own surprise and wonder. Things could not have been better. But the household help, loves annoying me. She broke an entire and ONLY bark of the rose plant, because it was growing aimlessly and had become difficult to not bump into. Keeping all my composure, I confronted her the next day, pretending to work from home. She said ‘didi, see it will grow back again.’ Yes, but I had managed to keep it alive for so long, why the heck did you have to do what you did! In this harsh summer. Of course, in front of her I merely agreed and went back to pretend mode.
I now started watering the plants without even looking at them. And one day groggy eyed I woke up to this
My heart is trying to find meaning in this unknown. The images are eerily incredible. They mend something inside me. Something heals. Not that things necessarily need mending. But I’ll take this catharsis over the rootlessness I tend to feel from time to time. Belong.
Talking of which, I got to be the new caretaker of the mini garden that came with this apartment. The plants lived. Well beyond my own surprise and wonder. Things could not have been better. But the household help, loves annoying me. She broke an entire and ONLY bark of the rose plant, because it was growing aimlessly and had become difficult to not bump into. Keeping all my composure, I confronted her the next day, pretending to work from home. She said ‘didi, see it will grow back again.’ Yes, but I had managed to keep it alive for so long, why the heck did you have to do what you did! In this harsh summer. Of course, in front of her I merely agreed and went back to pretend mode.
I now started watering the plants without even looking at them. And one day groggy eyed I woke up to this
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| Why could I not see this for so long? Break, re-grow, move on. |
In other news, SHE broke/cut off branches of 3 other plants. They are learning to re-grow. I have succumbed to the mighty Surekha Tai’s wisdom.
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