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He did not clear the garden, nor did he
write to Naani. Now suddenly, there
was a chance to show Naani the yellow
gladioli. Quickly, Sanjeev picked up the
smallest pot and ran back to the house.

A taxi had drawn up outside and his
father was already carrying out their
bags so he did not notice what Sanjeev
put in with the luggage. When they
reached Aunty Seema’s house, Sanjeev

jumped out of the taxi still holding
the flower pot and ran to the front door. ‘Naani! Naani! See what I have got for you!’ he
called as he heard footsteps and someone came to the door.

It was his mother. She tried to smile when saw him with the pot of gladioli, but instead
tears rolled down her cheeks and she opened her arms to her son. ‘She has gone, beta,’ she
said softly.

Sanjeev could not believe what his mother was trying to tell him.

‘Naani….Naani has… is gone? But she wanted to know the colour of the gladioli, so I
brought the pot all the way from Pune. She must see them!’ he said dazedly.

‘She will understand, Sanju,’ his mother said. ‘She always did.’
Waves of guilt coursed through Sanjeev. He had not maintained the garden that he and

Naani had planted. He had not even written to her and told her whether her favourite
flowers were blooming! And now it was too late—too late!

Slowly, he turned and walked out into the winter sunshine. He saw a garden seat beneath
a tree and he sank on it. He stared into space until gradually, a feeling of peace descended
on him. There was a slight warmth on his shoulder and he felt a smile hovering over him.
He looked up, expecting to see Naani looking at him with that special light in her eyes
but there was no one there.

Then, his gaze fell on a corner of the compound where flower beds had been neatly
marked in a square with a path leading inside. He recognized the pattern. The unfinished
garden was to be a replica of the corner he and Naani had made in Pune. Naani had not

lived to complete it here, with Rohit and Supriya. But he could do it with them. He knew
each step that Naani would take.
Sanjeev stood up decisively, the pain and guilt lessening as he made

a resolution. ‘We will make you a garden here, Naani,’ he said aloud, replica: an exact copy
‘and when I get back home, I won’t neglect the place you and I of something
enjoyed so much together.’

—Cheryl Rao
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