Tulsi - That Traveled The Country

Growing On The Road!

“Don’t seek for everything to happen as you wish it would, but rather wish that everything happens as it actually will-then your life will flow well.” - Epictetus

People frequently mistake my expertise in environmental systems for that of a gardener, assuming I possess an extensive knowledge of plants. They couldn't be more wrong.

The reality is, my plants have met their demise in nearly every conceivable way possible.

Like the Jade plant I brought for reasons of low maintenance needs and high survival rate, tragically dried off within a few days. I still have no idea what went wrong.

Once I managed to drown a lemon tree in hydration. Though I did manage to revive it with the help of a 14 years old youtuber, it never bore fruit. Now that tree is transplanted to my father's care. It lives, no thanks to me!

One more case history: My begonias refused to flower. I think I was personally hurt by that one.

Anyway, I was hoping this story is a little different.

A few months ago, I moved to Bombay. Before departure, my father packed some Tulsi (Holy Basil) seeds from his garden, neatly wrapped in tissue—a discovery I made months later in one of many unopened bags.

With the determination of a serial killer seeking redemption, I persuaded my husband to find a pot and soil for the seeds. Since I rarely ask for things, he vanished later in the evening and got it while it was raining cats and dogs. It was quite a romantic gesture. I am just happy Varun is not a plant and is capable of watering himself among many other wonderful self sustaining qualities.

So the seeds were sown, and I began waiting. After a week, there were no signs of growth. Mindful of past mistakes, I carefully regulated watering and sun exposure.

After another week of anticipation, tiny green saplings appeared from within the red soil. I quietly whispered ‘thank goodness’. Another week and the saplings began forming proper leaves as photographed above. All good up untill then when life threw a surprise.

My husband’s work demanded we leave Bombay for some time. Without care, no way this sapling was going to survive! But this time, I was adamant. Among all the things—dogs, clothes, and musical gear—the plant took a seat in the car.

Off we went to Goa!

I checked the plant's status every few hours during the journey, mumbling like a lunatic, "Please don't die, my ray of hope."

"Wait, we are almost there."

Once in Goa, Tulsi got a fine view of the ocean. As I sat on the sand and began writing for myself, floated in the deep seas, and celebrated both my birthday and anniversary, Tulsi had come into her own. Tall, green, and flourishing! The salt in the air did her so much good as it did to me.

Already she was big enough to contribute to the world. Like one day when I got a sun blister, she came to my rescue with her medicinal properties. I used her leaves to help the blister dry out, and it did! As she flourished, presenting a breathtaking sight, another unexpected turn in our journey unfolded—we had to leave again.

This time, the departure was for my work in the high altitude mountains, a plan conceived long before she arrived. The conundrum of what to do lingered in the air.

Observing her impressive growth prompted me to put on my thinking cap. She had become remarkably tall, unlike her stature when we traveled from Bombay to Goa.

Scanning my surroundings, I spotted a 10-liter Bisleri Bottle. Cutting the bottle from below, I carefully nestled the plant inside. Both the pot and the bottle were plastic, ensuring flexibility. I added a few holes on the side of the bottle for aeration, and with the added bonus of a handle, I could easily carry the plant. And so, we set out on our journey!

Tulsi had THE road trip that not many are able to experience in their lifetime. From Goa to Pune (Maharashtra) to Indore (MP) to Bundi (Rajasthan), bypassing Chandigarh, and finally to Jibhi in Himachal Pradesh.

Tulsi travelled from the Arabian sea -into the western ghats, - passing by the Tiger residence (kuno national park), - from within bright and beautiful desert sand - towards the mighty Himalayas.

As we drove something almost magical happened, the atmosphere inside the bottle underwent a transformation.

Dew drops appeared inside the bottle, and soon it began to look like as if it was raining. Tulsi had effectively created the right environment to regulate air and water cycle for her self.

I was simply stoked!

There are many wonders of our world that we don't notice but when you do, it's a feeling larger than life.

Once we parked ourselves around 6000 feet above sea level, I was reminded of the harsh reality of winter in the high-altitude mountains, a season notorious for claiming the lives of Tulsi plants, what were my thoughts?

Resolute, I refused to surrender! I adorned her in warm clothes, cocooned within the bottle, and exposed her to the morning sun, engaged in a battle against one of nature's most unforgiving environments.

Miraculously, she continued to thrive for another few weeks, defying the odds. As temperatures plummeted even further, the challenges escalated, testing the limits of her resilience.

When her greens took on a darker hue, my initial perception was that it might be the end. My concern deepened when I observed the presence of fungus.

Still in the early stages of understanding fungi, I acknowledged that it isn't inherently bad, considering plants typically use the mycelium network for nutrition. Yet, the situation isn't necessarily positive if the plant is already in a state of decline—it might imply that it has become a source of nourishment.

Despite this uncertainty, I decided to make one last effort. In an attempt to revive her, I sprinkled a combination of lemon and turmeric on the affected areas, hoping for a potential turnaround in her health.

Unsure about her current state—whether she has succumbed or holds the potential for revival in the coming summer—I will provide updates when the time is right. At present, I consider her in a dormant phase, a period of rest (I simply wish to avoid losing another of my plants, that too such a special one!). All that remains is to wait patiently and observe.

For whatever value it holds, I've come to understand the combination of passion and ingenuity present in plant enthusiasts/parents.

But next time, when I get a chance, I will just hire a gardener. :)