There is nostalgia and romance in the air in early November. A festive spirit is daintily festooned to most of the faces. There is love in the air. A butterfly couple flies in looping, free patterns of companionship, love, lust and procreation. It represents the air’s gallant, love-drenched, unhurried, effortless, soaring spirits.
The rose petals are velvety, soft, scented and scatter to playful winds after their short dazzle on the stage of existence. They are like a pampered princess. Marigolds, on the other hand, are hardy ones. Their lack of flashy colors and intoxicating smell is compensated by hardiness and durability. They are like hardworking, working class people. No wonder, the Gods prefer them as garlands around their necks.
A peepal that I planted has grown too long. Its thin stem looks too eager to kiss the skies. But too soaring ambitions see us plummeting down to kiss the ground as well. The lanky plant falls under the weight of its own tall aspirations. It now needs the support of a stick to regain its vertical. Helping a bent down plant to hold its head high is a nice thing to do. I only advise the plant to go up at a moderate, manageable pace.
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