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August 9th, 2017

Taking refuge in gardening

My morning paper today is full of nothing but doom and gloom and, quite frankly, lots of rubbish, both real and metaphorical.

There are, literally, photos of piles of rubbish all over Delhi – part of a laudable initiative by the Times of India to name and shame areas where garbage is piled high.

But at 8 o’clock in the morning, a little caffeinated but still-un-breakfast-ed, I simply do not have the energy to tackle the huge issue that is rubbish in India.

I cannot start ranting about the seeming apathy of this country in the face of the revolting rubbish/litter/garbage crisis.  Wherever you go, there is rubbish strewn all over the place…see, there I go.

It really is one of my major bugbears about India, but I said that I wouldn’t rant, so I won’t.

Right.  Let’s go back to the beginning of this post.

I said there was lots of rubbish…including political rubbish, like endless paragraphs devoted to Rahul Gandhi, and his VIP security cars, and his complaints at how stuffy they are.

Just. Give. Me. A. Break.

Those are MY tax rupees paying for your cars and your guards, who apparently get to go on foreign trips with you, Rahul-ji, so spare me the stuffy car argument, will you?

Bet all the poor folk crammed into the grimy, battered buses plying the roads here in Delhi find them stuffy, too.

There is also, in my morning paper, as ever, awful news about sexual attacks, and the ongoing situation in the neighbouring state of Haryana, where entitled sons feel they can harass and threaten women with impunity.

So much Stuff, most of it ugly, before 8 o’clock.

So, I shall take the lazy, cowardly way out instead, and talk about my plants.

W-a-y more interesting, if you ask me.

The current monsoon rains mean, naturally, that everything is looking quite lovely and green.  And plants are growing like Topsy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m not yet exactly feeding my family from my roof terrace pots, but we do have lemongrass galore.

Plus I have 2 lemons.

And, excitingly, I have one guava.

My recently eaten mango seeds are beginning to sprout.

So as long as everyone is a small eater, we’ll be fine!

All in all, not too shabby.

And a damn sight more relaxing than the morning papers.

Yes, agreed, a cowardly blog post, but there are times when it all gets too much to bear…

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