To Hear A Tulsi

We had a Tulsi in a small altar - which I called 'Tulasithara' - in front of our home. Nobody knew who placed her there because she was there in front, when we took the house for rent. When we bought the house to make it our home, she too continued her leaving there along with so many other walls and doors and windows.

"You have a nice Tulsi in front of the door". "It adds to the beauty of the house".

Comments were poured on her by the neighbors and visitors. With those comments the hatred towards that plant in the genius minds inside the walls of the building increased day by day. The reason was

"We do not believe in Tulsi or any of the rituals around it, that you follow".

That sentence bulged in front the word 'rituals' to hide the adjective 'stupid'.

"We just keep the plant there, as it was there when we bought the house". The words flew inside out the house from many mouths.

The milkman and such other visitors who waited outside the house caressed her by plucking her leaves, blossoms, chewing them and finally spitting everything back to her body. She was not allowed to flower by these conscious and unconscious hands.


One day when I went back home, I saw a cactus replacing the Tulsi. The 'Old', 'Stout' and 'Never Flowering' Tulsi was thrown outside with the rituals around her.

Nobody dared to caress the new cactus as she had intelligent thorns instead of blossoms. But I could see that people wanted to caress her too. The black, grey and henna colored hair strands and the cloth threads locked in her thorns said that. But she was completely yellowish and was plump. When asked I was answered

"We daily water her twice but still yellow always. Its because of the curse of that old Tulsi".

Now they believe in Tulsi. I smiled.