Sunday, April 20, 2008

Contentment



This frangipani has lived in two countries, suffered one relocation, endured ten nasty Arabian summers, survived the erratic job and emotional malaises of its owner and basically just refused to die in spite of every encouragement to do so. It insists on flowering profusely, prettily every year in wanton disregard for its chronic neglect. As I potter from room to room, filling the holes left by my paintings in the walls, the morning light streams through the French windows and the first of the tiny birds arrive to chitter around the flowers. I stand watching for a while, with a tub of Spackling and a butter knife in my hand, and come away with the strong feeling that all cracks can be patched just as simply, easily.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

there are cracks and cracks, some can be patched with out a trace while some linger on to be a nusiance lingering through time, serving no other purpose than irrtating oneself ! But ultimately all cracks like all problems can be patched up/obliterated without a trace, which has been my theory for ages!achan

Krishnan Menon said...

You should find some way of taking the plant with you.

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