Between a Mouse and a Green Place

A pacifist plant-lover faces off a hungry horde

- Mala Kumar

THE DAY I noticed a few brain-shaped leaves of my Indian pennywort were missing was the day I should have known that we had a little robber around us. And a clever one, at that. Some Indian homes fry pennywort leaves in ghee for children to eat for enhanced intellect and memory power. Over the next two days, more glossy round leaves from a plant known for its anxiety-relieving properties, disappeared. Not having had enough of either, my brain did not send out alarm bells.

The next day, my Jewels of Opar (Talinum paniculatum) had been tonsured. This one was particularly precious to me because it had come from the garden of a family I loved. Nevertheless, I did not panic. Just a month ago, a passing troop of monkeys had settled down on the ledge of our fourth-floor balcony, slipped their hands through the bars and helped themselves liberally to the leaves.

The plant eventually corrected itself, and I was looking forward to the familiar burst of pretty pink flowers on it. Ah, the monkeys must be back, I thought now, appreciating their taste in flora. They could not do much damage, I assumed, as they would be on their way in a day or two. Live and let live is a policy close to my heart.