So elated, I was. An Apricot plant had grown by itself in the kitchen garden. It was a small baby trying to make a sound in a corner near the wall. I moved closer, touched the plant to have a closer look. It had the same peculiar leaves, that reddish brown color branches, that branching network. It prompted me to go have a look on my Apricot plant I had been nurturing for years now some feet away.
I felt like I had received a bonus now & was very excited counting the huge number of Apricots my two plants would produce in the future. Where’s my baby! I couldn’t see it at it’s spot. The bricks were there, the grass that grew along someone had plucked it. The Apricot plant was there severed from the roots. I picked it up trying hopelessly stared at it for a long time. It’s leaves were dropping down. The leaves at the tips were starting to dry and were going to crumble.
My grandpa while plucking the bushes had accidentally pulled the Apricot plant out of the ground too. I hadn’t informed him of the presence of the plant there. I hadn’t put any protection around it. I’ve only myself to blame. 😦 😦
We’ve built nuclear bombs, viruses and Artificial Intelligence. But the soul that has left this plant it’s beyond human capabilities to do anything about it.