I planted some rose bushes, a few aloe vera and chrysanthemum plants. All of them died. Then I, very ambitiously, planted a butter fruit seed. It lost its life after growing to be a healthy plant of about my height when somebody decided it was a mere weed and stifled it with heaps of dry twigs and leaves. Thus ended my gardening. I wondered how weeds grew so abundantly without any added nutrition or care in the same soil. It was only yesterday that I could think of a reason. The weeds were free. They grew where they wanted, when they liked. No human conditioned their growth. The soil was theirs, the water and the sun. We plant a seed with love, take care of it with love. But I realise now that freedom is infinitely more necessary than love.
Fleeting thoughts in snippets.