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Dirty Days

Some childhood gardening memories are sprinting around like wild horses in my mind. Why did I suddenly think of those days? Was it the gardeners working on campus who diverted my attention or was it just a mere random occurrence? Well, in any case, I thought it would be nice to share these memories with you…

We didn’t have a garden..people living in flats can’t dream of gardens! But we had a terrace. And my father was determined to try his hand at gardening (and not just pots with flowers)!

We bought mud, dung, earthworms, etc and a lot of seeds! The goal was to grow vegetables…this was interesting…challenging…exciting!

We decided on a corner of the terrace where we would make the manure. We put all our organic waste from the kitchen into that huge mound and let it rot! Obviously we needed to water proof the terrace so our house wouldn’t leak at places because of this endeavour.

And then the vacations arrived.

We got the pots out. My father, a first timer with veggies himself, led the way. I followed blindly. We laughed and had fun while we worked on the garden for a couple of hours each day before dad had to go to work.

There was all kinds of stuff to be done. Pots to be filled with manure, some fertilizer mix that looked like mustard seeds, watering the soil and making it friendly enough for growth of the sweet seeds we were going to sow, etc.

Well, maybe you guys use gloves to do these things…but we just got out there and got our hands dirty!

We planted the seeds. Coriander, carrots, onions, spinach, tomatoes, okra (there must have been many more that I can’t remember right now!)…

And then the long wait…watering the plants became a part of our regular routine. And we had to pay special attention to the monkeys ย that ate tiny shoots, insects that could retard the growth, etc.

Finally they arrived!

Coriander was probably the first to show up! The tender tiny leaves came to say Hi and we were filled with joy…and when it was time to go to school again, I could enjoy at least 2 tiny sweet carrots every morning (these ones grown in shallow plastic tubs that were earlier for washing clothes!). We reaped the benefits of our labour. And how sweet they tasted!

I didn’t realize then that I was making memories. But today, they have been frozen as some of my sweetest memories with dad…and something to talk about with you beautiful people! ๐Ÿ™‚

 

 

43 thoughts on “Dirty Days”

  1. Yes, the list is endless….. do you remember that we got a big round pumpkin that we got from our terrace garden….. i still remember the green leafy veggies (palak, pudina, coriander, tiny potatoes, etc. etc. The flowers that bloom…. Oh.. your dad might be missing his terrace garden. But, he is doing little justice at our new home, by keeping 8-10 pots in the balcony. Nice post. You brought our sweet old memories… Thanks, keep thinking……
    Love,

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    1. Oh utilizing the space and growing plants is really important, isn’t it! I never thought that could also come out as a strong thought from this memory. Thank you for providing a completely new perspective and adding value to an otherwise ordinary post of mine! ๐Ÿ™‚

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  2. What a visual I got reading through your post. Just wonderful! As an avid gardener myself, I relish in taking all those extra steps to making a garden come alive and enjoying the bounty later on. I’ve seen a lot of lush terraces in India, so resourceful and amazing to think how it all started. Great memories for sure! The compost was the icing on the cake so to speak!

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    1. Thank you for your kindness Loretta! Well gardening is my father’s passion and I’m glad I trotted around and helped him with things because today when I look back, I feel like those days were incredibly special ๐Ÿ™‚
      It’s also nice to know you’ve visited India. I hope you had a good time here ๐Ÿ™‚

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      1. Wow! Goa is a wonderful place indeed ๐Ÿ™‚ I don’t think you’d remember too much of India from those 3 years though.. I hope you got a chance to visit again. And if you do plan to visit in the future, do drop me a line. I’d love to meet you. ๐Ÿ™‚

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      2. Ahh thanks so much Aishwarya. Yes, I did visit a couple of times in my youth as we still had grandparents there and loads of cousins. Visited again as an adult about 3 more times. It’s been a while though. I have a couple of blog posts on Goa and the food. ๐Ÿ™‚

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  3. Ah, memories. My Dad was of Swiss farming descent. Of course when we moved from apartment living, vegetable gardens were necessities. Although they took over only a small part of the postage stamp back yard, We feasted on tomatoes, carrots, green beans, zuchinni, cucumbers, lettuce, apples, sour cherries and even figs. Flowers were also part of the show, planted so from tulip time to those of Fall we were treated to color and beauty. In the USA Dad was an organic gardener before the word was even known. A garage for an auto? No, that’s what a street was for. In the garage were garden tools, bags of cow manure, stakes for veggies and a myriad of other garden related things. And yes, both daughters did our part to make a harvest of goodness and beauty come to fruition. Thanks for the memories….

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    1. Wow it’s so wonderful reading your story and imagining your life! Your dad seems like an amazing man with a penchant for gardens and his farming descent must have given him a lot of education on deciding what he wanted to grow. Garden tools in the garage… My father would’ve loved the sight of it. If we had had a garage, my father would’ve done no different, I’m sure!
      Thank you for pausing and sharing your beautiful memories with me!

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    1. Ah, here I was reading one of yours and you’ve reblogged one of mine! How kind that is J! Thank you so much… And I think I played for the most part as well ๐Ÿ˜‰

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  4. lovely post! I am bad with veggies! Just wanted you to know I will be blogging more at dakshahathi.com site as this site has no more space for photos etc! though I try to kill off the bad ones and still blog here.

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  5. Childhood innocence leaves us free to enjoy ourselves without having to fret about the future. I miss the way I took pleasures out of small things, even as greater things crumbled. I guess everyone does..

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    1. Childhood is the most amazing phase indeed. I couldn’t wait to grow up when I was a kid but now I regret having thought so. However, I haven’t forgotten taking pleasure from small things yet ๐Ÿ™‚

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