Enchanted

The trunk of the banana tree was not as wide as the trees I grew up with, and the hue was similar to asparagus. One of the branches curved down from the weight of the growing bananas. The fruits looked like flowers, blossoming from the tree branch. The bananas were unripe, small with a chartreuse tint. They grew in three layer, sprouting upwards at the top, sideways in the middle, and hanging low at the bottom.

“Do you still like bananas? I remember how much you loved them as a child.” Amma asked me.

I replied, “Yes Amma, I still love bananas, especially here, they taste better than the ones in America.”

“Good, these should be ready to pick in a few days, you can have some when they’ve ripened,” she said to me.

Amma then led me to the coconut tree, the leaves towered over me. They were long and wide, fanning about in the breeze. Their shade was a mix of grass and straw, the same as the coconuts budding at the top. There were at least a couple dozen coconuts bunched together high up on the tree, waiting to drop and be collected.

“There is a better view of the coconuts from the terrace on the roof, I will show you tomorrow. Next, I want to show you one of my favorites,” Amma said as she steered me to a fruit that was twice the size of my head.

“This is jackfruit, and they are almost ready to be picked. Would you like to help me get them tomorrow?”

I looked up at the jackfruit swaying on its tree branch. They were pear shaped; the lumpy coarse flesh was tinged umber, like yellow saffron. Though jackfruit was one of my least favorite fruits, I told Amma that I would help her pick them. One of my aunts called for us then, “Mum, the chai is ready and everyone is waiting.”

Amma told her that we would join them soon, “I still want to show her one more thing.”

We walked over to one last plant; it was small and looked like black blueberries clustered together like grapes on a vine. I had never seen anything like it before, and wondered how it would taste; if it would be as succulent as the fruits it looked like.

“Those berries look delicious Amma! What are they? Can I try one?” I asked her.

Amma started laughing, “Those are not berries bheta, and you cannot just pluck them and eat them. This is a black pepper plant, they will be dried to make peppercorn.” I started laughing too. I couldn’t believe I had thought black pepper was a delicious berry.

“I think this is a good note to end on for today. Why don’t we go inside and have some chai? I will show you more tomorrow,” Amma said to me.

The month was December and I was in the city of Cochin in the south of India. I hadn’t been back to this city since my family had moved to the States; well over a decade earlier. When we arrived at my grandparents’ home from the airport I had wanted nothing more than to spend time with my family. However, I couldn’t help but wander into the backyard. I was instantly mesmerized by the vegetation that grew wild there. The vibrant colors of the lush forest captivated and enchanted me.

The sun had been warm and red behind my closed eyelids, the air was heavy, and I was surrounded by the delicious smells of exotic fruits and spices. I thought I had been transported to a tropical rainforest. The noise from passing cars and children playing on the streets faded. I only heard the koyal birds singing from somewhere in the foliage. I had walked around the yard, surrounded by flora so think that the sun was just slightly peeking through. I found a watering well made of cement and sat down. It was late afternoon and the temperature must have been well over 90 degrees Fahrenheit, yet the verdure around me kept me comfortable in the dry heat. That was when my grandmother had found me, sitting on the edge of the well. She smiled down at me and grabbed my hand, urging me to follow her. She wanted to show me her little piece of paradise.

Just thinking about that garden even now, I am instantly relaxed. It truly is and enchanting place where you can forget about everything. I usually find it hard to shut off my brain, but in that yard I didn’t think about anything at all. I saw a vivid colors around me and heard the sounds of nature. It was so easy to get lost in the beauty of my grandmother’s garden.

I was fourteen when I explored the greenery with Amma. Though I haven’t seen it since then, it is one of my fondest memories. My feelings about the garden haven’t changed much in the last twelve years. At the time it was an escape, a place that brought to mind the various mythical worlds from my favorite books and stories. I could imagine myself in another place and time and living as one of my beloved characters. All of these years later, whenever I think about the banana and coconut trees, I turn into my fourteen-year-old self. I remember thinking that I could be myself in the garden, there were no expectations, not a worry on my mind. Whenever I get frustrated with the state of the world or feel stretched too thin, I think about Amma’s piece of paradise. Because that is exactly what it is, a haven; an opening into another world where anything and everything is possible.