Last year, Father had tossed a few seeds of the sweet paw paw (papaya, as we call it) into a pot of bougainvillea in my home. We both waited for weeks but the seeds remained sulky, refusing to peek outside of the damp soil that nourished many beautiful flowers. Father went back to Kerala while my mind got too overwhelmed — with its own mental webs of dreams, thoughts and worries — to think about the mystery of those missing seeds.
Like an abandoned story idea that suddenly worms its way into your mind again, the paw paw plant raised its leafy head through the thorny branches of the bougainvillea months after we looked for it. It climbed up unannounced and with no fuss. Father is overjoyed but let’s hope the bougainvillea doesn’t mind! Come to think of it, was there some kind of power struggle in the soil? We’ll never know now, will we?