My mother in law is a bit of a horticultural enthusiast. Her front porch is akin to a gold mine of lush green. There are tall plants, short plants, those that climb and those that hang. Some can be eaten raw and some adds flavours to local dishes. She would describe some as being sturdy and adaptable, and some as manja - requiring additional attention or care.
On mornings when we stay over at my in laws, I would see her carrying a bucket of water with a small pail as she lovingly waters each potted plant. During conversations about children, she would often rhetorically say, "Siapa tak sayang anak sendiri? (Who doesn't love their own children?)" And when I see her watering her plants, that phrase rings in my head - it is as if all these plants are her children. And the fact that they have bloomed so beautifully is a testament to her as a caretaker or "parent".
Especially in the middle of the city where flora is sparse and the heat from vehicles and tower blocks is constantly challenging one's patience and sanity, a beautiful garden seems like a simple, yet powerful antidote for urban stress. There is a table in the porch where her grandchildren would do their homework on, and on weekend mornings when the streets are less busy, it is nice to relax in the living room - tea and book in hand - to take time and just look out the window to appreciate the fruits of her "green fingers" labour.
Maybe someday I too will follow in her footsteps and care for a garden of my own. I just need to stop killing the cacti that I have at home first.
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