Over summer, I returned home to Manjung to a house with an overgrown garden. My father was ill and had to be hospitalised. So, no one could tend after the garden for several months during the lockdown.
The luffa invaded the backyard and the bananas sprouted fruits euphorically. My mother found the tiny wilderness rather charming. To me, the bewitched look went beyond our brand of gardening eccentricity. So, a cull was called unanimously by my sister and me.
During the clean-up, I found a tub full of newly propagated water plants. Pistia (water lettuce) and salvinia, to be precise. These are usually unwanted plants because they’re invasive and notorious for blocking the water systems.
“Don’t throw them out,” my mother warned. Why? I asked. She replied, “Because your niece is growing them for her pet fish.”
“The luffa invaded the backyard and the bananas sprouted fruits euphorically. My mother found the tiny wilderness rather charming.”
I felt a huge relief. I often wondered if the gardening enthusiasm in my family would end with my generation. It’s often associated with semi-retirement hobby and I don’t know what young people are thinking nowadays.
However, growing pistia from seeds is a touch experimental and curious. I could see a potential gardening talent that my farming ancestors would’ve approved.
After The Rain 