Lemon Tree

Going through the recent episode of lower-back pain, I decided to call it a day and took some time-off work to heal. After getting my scans and tests, I felt like amusing myself and headed to the local Westfield shopping centre. The only item in my shopping list was a bottle of Gin, a firm believer that its botanical herbs have certain pain killing properties. This was one time I wished I was in California. It will take a few days to get all the reports back, giving me some breathing space to treat myself.

As I entered the super-market, I realised that my physiotherapist had asked me to do some walking on a flat surface subject to pain being bearable. I found aisle-surfing to be a very calming walking substitute.

To my surprise there were some indoor succulents, and a few other fruit plants at a very special price. My Indian instinct straightaway led me to these “Red Ticket” items, nothing like haggling and bargaining at Janpath or Karol Bagh in Delhi.

Right next to me was a senior, 5'6" Anglo-Australian man in shorts, a cap covering his forehead. He was going through various pots, reading labels describing growth, height, suitable climate and other details about these plants.

He titled a black pot with a lemon tree in it and started reading the label, then turned his head, looking at me asked, “I am 75, do you think I will be able to see lemons on this tree?”

Unprepared for this question, I almost fumbled and then gathered myself and said, “Sir, I am sure you will be able to get multiple seasons of lemon from this tree.”

Probably a bit hard of hearing, he said, “I was talking about myself, I am 75.”

I said, “Exactly right sir, I seriously mean that you will be able to enjoy many seasons of this lemon tree, I am a psychic.”

He looked at me, very touched and said, “I like the confidence in you, young man”.

I said, “Thank you sir, if I lose the bet, I will be compensating you handsomely”, and he smiled.

I didn’t have the heart to tell him my own story, why I was at the shopping centre.