Out of a dozen varieties of flowering plants that we have planted in our garden, atleast five to six varieties flower everyday. I leave some of them on the plants because I like the sight and pluck some to decorate the deities imprisoned in the mini shrine of our house. Today all the flowers that I got were white and fragrant. They made a pretty sight on the plate and were spreading their fragrance.
The flowers at the top are the 'parijata', the most pious of the lot. It is permitted to even pick them off the ground and use in worship. The middle row is made by what is called 'kaneri' in konkani at the left, white rose in the middle and three jasmine at the right. The flowers at the bottom are what we call 'nandabattalu' in kannada.
Since pleasing the wife is more important than pleasing the gods, I offered the jasmine to my wife first. She loves them and had been trying to educate me in the aestheics and finer sentiments and emotions involved in buying jasmine, surprising the wife with the offer of a string of those flowers and enjoying the sight of the flowers in her hair. But to her utter disappointment I have been a very poor student.
"Did you bring everything from the market?"
"Yes. I got all the vegetables and did remember lemons and coriander'
"Anything else?"
"The mangoes were good and with in reach today. So I got a dozen."
"Anything else?"
"Yes. I remembered colour pencils for Ashwin"
"Anything else"
"Crocin syrup. Yes I bought it too"
"Sigh, thats all".
This went on for years. I never rememberd jasmine.
To make up for the lapse over the years, I offered to tie them in a string and give her today.
"Very nice of you to have rememberd. But I neither have the longing nor enough hair to wear jasmine now".
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