Diary of a House Plant

We lived a beautiful life together for over eighteen years. And then the movers forgot to put me in their truck.

I came all the way to Arizona from a cozy suburb in Michigan, and instead of going with her to Baltimore, I got left behind. But I know she was sad. And I know she wanted to take me with her, but I was just too big to fit on a plane. My silk leaves surely would have been crushed by the low ceiling.

I heard her on the phone one evening.
“Please take my plant! I can’t give it away. It’s been with our family forever. It’s like one of my own children!
“Mom, I don’t want your stupid silk plant. It’ll be so out of place in my apartment.”
Click.

Where am I going?

My anxiety grew as her days in Arizona began to conclude. And then the phone rang again. And I all heard was…
“Oh you have no idea how happy that makes me! I really wanted to give this plant to someone I love and I promise it’ll look so nice in your apartment! Thank you so much for not making me give her away!”

Oh God, where am I going?

I now reside in the corner of a clean one-bedroom apartment with her daughter. It’s pretty lonely here. There’s no dog. There’s no noise . There’s barely any sunlight. She comes and goes frequently, and often sticks around only to have a cup of tea.

I wish I were in Baltimore with her mother. And her dog. I wish she loved me as much as her mom loves me. I wish she wasn’t gone so much and I wish she kept the lights on at night. I wish she bought more furniture so I didn’t feel so alone. I wish she turned the heat on and I wish she watched better shows on television instead of those stupid reality shows.

At least it always smells nice in here…

Not Quite the Fairytale.

I had envisioned a beautiful wedding. With lots of people. And bright enticing colors. The aroma of exotic spices would have filled the air as people graciously loaded up their fresh banana leaves with rich chutneys and steaming dosas. The old grandmothers would all be sitting together. Gossiping. How many children will she have? How will she learn to cook? Where will she set up her puja room? Little kids would be running around. Laughing. Playing. Unaware that soon enough they would be the ones playing bride and groom.
I had envisioned her wearing the most stunning sari. A fiery red layer of silk would have draped across her body accentuating her perfect figure. Her jet-black hair would have been neatly tied in a long braid dangling past her lower back, with crisp white jasmine flowers intricately woven in. Her arms and feet would have been elegantly decorated with henna designs, and her eyes would have sparkled just like those diamonds in her ears.
I had envisioned the wedding of my parents. Their relationship was so full of passion. And love. And affection. They were so deviant of the typical Indian couple. Their story reminded me of a fairytale. Or so I envisioned…
And then I remember hearing the real story. A quick prayer. A crammed temple. A faded sari. Not a family member in sight. My parents married against the blessing of society. They were of different classes and of different worlds. But they believed in themselves. In each other. And in their love. And I suppose that’s where I came into the picture?

Be Kind. Make up your Mind.

“I need you to listen very carefully. You may even want to write this down.”
She speaks to me as if I were seven-years-old. I quickly grab a pen out of my apron while smiling innocently. “I’m ready when you are!”
“I’m gonna need a glass of water and a glass of cranberry juice. I want ice in my water glass. Make sure its filled to the top with ice. I like a lot of ice. But I don’t want any ice in my cranberry juice. I want an extra glass on the side filled with ice. And make sure the ice is filled to the top. I also need lime. I need a lot of lime. And I need sweet n’ low. Do you have sweet n’ low? Cause if you don’t, I’m changing my order to a diet coke.”
This is gonna be a long day.
I return with beverages, glasses of ice, a bowl of limes, and another bowl of sweet n’ low. I even bring a diet coke, just in case she’s not completely satisfied with our sweet n’ low.
“Miss, are you ready to order? Or do you have any questions about anything?”
“I’m trying to eat light, what’s in the bikini shrimp salad?”
“A mixture of iceberg lettuce, our spring mixture, salt and pepper, grilled prawns, watermelon balls, candied walnuts, cilantro, and our bikini dressing, which is a little tart.” I hope to God that was right.
“Do you have any ranch?”
Seriously, this is a CHINESE RESTAURANT. We do not have ranch, nor do we have low cal options.
“No, I’m sorry! I can have the dressing brought to you on the side if you would like.”
“No that’s okay, I don’t want to have to mix it up myself. I’ll take the salad anyway. Just give me the half order.”
Half order?
“We actually don’t do half orders, but I can always box up any leftovers for you to enjoy later.”
“But then it’ll get all soggy. Do you have any other lighter options?”
“Our egg drop and hot and sour soup are pretty light choices. You can also get any of our dishes stock velveted, which is essentially cooking the meat using vegetable broth rather than oil so it cuts down the fat a lot. Any more questions?”
“No, that’ll do. I think I’ll just take a cup of the egg drop soup. That sounds good. And bring me some of those fried wonton strips on the side. And actually get me an order of the sweet and sour pork too. Oh. And don’t forget the white rice!”

And that was only my first table.

This is gonna be a REALLY long day.