The Grass is Greener on the other side of the lawn! Dear Gardner, please come along !

Dear Gardner,

Just an URGENT note before I get finally wrung under the menaces of the forage machines and bear the heaviest burden of getting totally transformed. The situation is far more serious than the feelings that come with getting united with a long lost family, and in such passings, all the effects of filial associations changed —and lead into a situation of —“fully gone.” Drawn on canvases,previously, my pictures used to be so clear and so strong. And now, with the extreme summer taking it’s toll, the heat is making me tumble down, and in entirety, I may soon turn into a mausoleum tomb.

In fact, chances are, near to certain, in terms of me getting packed off to a providence of a long gone room, filled in dreary composts, and very well referred to as— “Dung-yards-at-ewes-bleat-ack, around the country lanes of #Everfoundinlostandgrounds.

The prevailing circumstance and the general tension of my nerves makes me write this. So please treat this letter as my earnest pleading—more like, a bickering yelp,flowing into a fading sleep; for much of me is about to perish.

Yes, a miserable state has come upon me, certainly, due to the sweltering effects of the summer sun ; swiftly rotting and withering me into noxious vapors ; perhaps,rising my dead self to some higher grounds.

These are difficult times especially when I am at the verge of being thrown off—into situations,wherein, the cow sits and the bull stands, and to that point— anyone could be a proximate cause of filthy droppings while they howsoe’er do so. And the earth and soil below me is proposing to lend it’s hearth to those stenchy splashings being sprayed around. And, to that, my thoughts are making bugle calls, and most intently, blaring this — which dung might take which form and how as a puréed muck,I might get minced into those long forms ; as if, gone on to that school of “beings,”—totally transformed. So unspeakably, nature is conferring such errings, as the foliage in me, is about to sleep in varying shades of yellow and brown. Whatever you do, do it fast; much before the early blushes of my blooming individuality, gets mixed up, with the mud and mulch of the dreary lawn. Please treat this letter eagerly and turn your compasses to this side of the town. These brinks are leaving me to seek thy merciful hands —only with the hope, that I might not have to kneel to the ground, as long thaws in summertime seem unendingly long. Your timely, life giving care, c’d balm me to recovery and revive me from such despond.Please read this fully , duly and respond urgently!

After reading all this, please be forth with and don’t delay those remedies for too long! While you expiate so , people will learn from thee, how the poorly are fed to restore ,and with thy nurturance, revived back in those verdant lawns. Who’s the one diffusing happiness all around. It’s you! So, in between the nature’s call and the next retreat of the coming morn ,please come along. Meaning , sinking in heat , I might turn into a stick and descend into fodder to serve all the bovine gastronomic groans. But that, may not happen, if you come upon and take control of this —good little thing, that’s about to shrivel down. Please don’t let this go wrong! So benumbed , here I am, launching my deep sighs over windy whooshes and chasing thee to hunt and haunt. I know you shall feed me to grow abound!

As you might want to know further on that account , here’s a write up telling you what you might want to know in advance. This is what is happening with the garden you had earlier mowed, but lately, have abandoned it for far too long. Why haven’t you been here to mend and tend to these nature’s alarms. It’s been quite a while since you raked up the yard and watered this lawn. Where are you?! Please come fast before I rankle into a fall and get booked for a sacrilege afar at the abode of a tenacious monk.

And now, you must know this —

It’s been two weeks since I was bought off a nursery, which was,indeed,a great deal (for me,) because it was more than I could have ever imagined. I felt excited! I was about to adorn the garden of one wealthy buyer and the prospect of this—was making me believe that a benevolent soul was being casted upon—to lift my spirits over the mounts. But, here upon, my expectations have crashed unto the ground. A crisis has emerged all of a sudden. Purported to be beleaguered by a devoted caretaker , I thought, I would be cared for, all day long; evermore, so watered and fed periodically,under the auspices of his fully irrigated and automated lawns. The irrigation system of my new abode is supposedly feeler sensitive to the plant needs.And, I thought that this sort of nurturance and perpetual looking after would be my new dawn! Like new beginnings over tempest’s torn and my life is about to be stately borne.Unfortunately, lapsing for worse, after putting me to bed, my owner has taken a different stance. In negligence, he has left me to the wanton winds—stretching into oblivions, far beyond. He snoozes and snores, all day long. For hours, he lounges in a miasma of “no-cares” and sits there trying to decide —which area to scratch on; and if it be so, whether it w’d be the bum, the butt or the full ass on ! You won’t believe, once I found him wandering off to live his life under those hammock grounds. He went down there digging a straight ditch to empty his bladder ; awkwardly unawares that his piss was an intolerable magma pouring to excite all stinks to all arms. A source of waste and water, that was ,unbearably being thrown around. So, such are the negligent ways of my keeper. It’s putting —all plants, to a lot of inconvenience. So, I beg of you , to come soon and repair all these series of mortal harms. Perhaps , before I shout out, half a dozen times: I am gone , ouch! all gone—; with absolutely, all hopes of survival, gone.

Previously,my life, at the farmer’s nursery, was also pathetically lousy and far gone. Out there, the layabouts and the daily routines were particularly leaving me in despair and forlorn —precisely in the lawn.

The farmers regimented waterings, waved at random intervals, along with the abrupt crashes of the water hoses, were posing another kind of irreconcilable groan; coming along , here and there, the waterings were a bit too strong. And, over there, life was more like a public show, flashing on. There was no privacy from the constant preens of gawkers—more so —prospective buyers. And, far off appearing to be the “would-be” buyers , many were more like —hanging-on ; getting about sauntering, as sheer vagabonds. So, then again, those fine maintenance masters,were launching their— more than frequent washes all in measures of feisty frowns. Every now and then, that was, literally, drowning us to those flooded grounds.

In ways, I bore overbearing cares under leech’s licks and chasing hounds. This situation was , pretty much, hijacking me from my little rested breaths, and subjecting me to reckless outpours of affections, so wearily unfound.None so blind as those who didn’t see, I was overwhelmed by those wrongly dozed , soul stirring, and by this —all to be owned —pillared grounds.

Then, as short horns on long farms , life at the nursery was turning everyday into a new tease of a new form. Every morn,anybody and everybody, would come to gauge the plants, to inspect and adopt—one among us, as their very own. With their Midas touch,as if, to approve or disapprove o’er their preferred new shrubbery, that was lately found. Some lightly came and others scurried around. And still others,with their little strokes, fell off the great oaks, only to finally abscond. Anyone from Tom, Dick, to Harry , c’d break loose to check us on . They said the inspection was for insect bites and heat scars. By mid day , everyone w’d be gone . It was an unpleasant function to be part of this routined rude rejection and thence stagnantly sustain on.

In spite of all that, a few moons back, the day of optimism had seemingly arrived for me. There was this wealthy man who took his oath upon the garden grounds, before he adopted me for his home. And I thought ,he would take ardent cares of me, all his life long. But, instead, least said, his actions have taken to the other end and he has turned horribly negligent and pathetically wrong.

So, after reading these lines , please come soon to attend and mend these slothful surroundings. My master’s hands have long gone ; without giving decisive cares of any degree nor any plaintive response. Please bring your tools. And, if there’s anything I w’d request you to do urgently enough, then that would be this: at each cross road and every intersection, please burn all those green lights and come fast to save my life ! It’s been a LONG THAW !

Yours sincerely,

Best as of now;

Mimosa plant (aspiring to be a tree)

💫✨ 🧡🦢🦢🦢🧡 ✨💫

© August 18th , 2021 Madhu Goteti