I recently started a bit of planting—not much, just 3-4 pots on the kitchen window grill. One of the plants is cherry tomatoes. A couple of months ago, I sowed some seeds, and out came three cute plants. I named them Amar, Akbar, and Anthony.
Despite my obsessive observation and care, one morning I noticed that one of the stems was bent, probably broken. It was Akbar. I thought it would recover on its own, but a couple of days later, I saw the damage had worsened. I knew I had to do something—perhaps support it or tie it up to help it heal—but I decided to put off the task until the next day.
The next morning was heartbreaking. I found Akbar severed from the cut, lying lifeless on the soil. I realized my procrastination had cost Akbar its life. Overcome with guilt, I gently picked it up and placed it back in some freshly dug soil, clinging to a sliver of hope for a miracle.
In the next few days, Akbar's leaves still seemed to hold up well. After a couple more days, I noticed new leaves starting to appear, and I knew Akbar hadn’t given up yet. Although Akbar's growth slowed while Amar and Anthony continued at their usual pace, Akbar had to grow fresh roots to have any chance of survival—and it did well.
Eventually, I had to repot Amar and Anthony into a bigger pot so they could thrive, leaving Akbar behind in the small pot to develop further. Today, Akbar has grown tall enough to be moved to its own big pot. As the saying goes in Hindi, "Der Aaye, Durust Aaye" (better late than never).
A few days ago, I learned that the tomato stem has roots all along it. So, planting the stem deeper into the soil encourages more roots to develop. Now I realize that Akbar’s "miracle" actually has a scientific explanation!
While I’ve discovered that planting can be quite therapeutic, the hobby also brings with it a lot of learning and reinforcement. From this experience:
- Procrastination often comes at a high cost. It's even worse when our procrastination affects someone or something else.
- Sometimes, it's okay to be hopelessly hopeful and act in good faith. Miracles do happen.
- While timely support is crucial, it’s never too late to offer help, even if we feel it might be too late.
Though Amar and Anthony are taller than Akbar, I’m sure they are proud of their sibling for battling its way up. Over time, with continued care and support, I’m confident that Akbar will grow as tall as its siblings and, when the time comes, bear equally cute little tomatoes.
This post isn’t just about plants. Let’s support the "Akbars" we encounter, before it’s truly too late.
P.S.: The attached video is a collection of Instagram stories I posted throughout this experience.
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