Hello Dear Readers,
July is nearly at its fag end. It is tough to believe that we have reached the eighth month of the year. How is time moving so fast?
Singapore's weather offers little to differentiate between seasons. It is either hot or hotter, with or without rain. A fall in temperature below 25 degrees Celsius, which can be called cool for Singapore, is rare. But the breeze, which picked up after June, makes the balcony a passable place to sit and work.
Besides, the sun that plays hide and seek with cloudy skies gives fabulous pictures during our evening walks.
Writing Progress
I have put aside my novel for a short while, focusing on a new online course while adding to an essay bit by bit. Once done, I’ll post the essay on my blog, The Plausible Mind.
Meanwhile, I’ve finished two years of this blog. Although it’s too early to look at my progress in terms of subscribers, the statistics page showed me some happiness-inducing data.
I am highly pleased about the audience overlap blogs. They are some of the best I have read, and I am glad we share readers.
Reading Life
I put myself under pressure again by borrowing a book from the library. I am under a strict deadline to finish reading because the book cannot be renewed.
The Garden Against Time by Olivia Laing doesn’t just have a lovely cover but is an interesting and philosophic narration of the author’s journey in building a garden.
I have no knowledge of England’s plants and flowers, except for being vaguely familiar with some of the references in novels. Yet, that has not deterred me from turning the pages of the book.
The author starts with the theory that paradise or Eden refers to a garden instead of the notion that a garden, if well-kept, can stand in for paradise.
Referring to Milton’s interpretation of Eden in Paradise Lost, Laing surmises that many people have lost a paradise.
When I read that Milton’s idea of Eden was a place so fertile that a tree bore flowers and fruits simultaneously, I recalled a mango tree in the backyard of my childhood home. It flowered for 365 days a year. Truly, we lost paradise when we moved.
Do we start thinking and imagining of dystopian times when paradise is lost?
The author notes how Milton writes about his Utopia (Eden) even in times of despair. In contrast, contemporary writers (including me) seem to imagine and describe dystopia to preempt what they see as a sordid future for humanity. That’s probably what I was trying to do with my science fiction novels.
The most sobering thought about gardens comes from Toni Morrison’s observation: “All paradises, all utopias are designed by who is not there, by the people who are not allowed in.”
The author uses the quote to emphasise that access to a garden is a luxury and a privilege. In medieval Europe, slaves were employed to build and maintain massive estates and luxurious gardens. Social reforms have greatly changed the relationship between landowners and workers, converting it to a more respectable relationship between an employer and an employee. Yet, one cannot deny that having a garden to till and sow is indeed a luxury in the modern world, especially in cities.
In the modern world, we have low-salaried workers who toil in the hot sun to build islands of luxury.
Nowhere is this irony more apparent than in modern-day utopias like Dubai and Singapore, where the hands and feet that build the paradise often do not have access to it. The workers are restricted physically and economically from enjoying the fruits of their labour.
Foot Note
Our planet has reached a stage where, for some citizens, having a country to call their own might soon become a luxury. I am referring to the island of Tuvalu, which is sinking into the seas.
My weekend short story is a continuation of a previous one I wrote based on the island’s predicament.
I have paywalled all my short stories, so although you might receive a free preview, you will need a paid subscription to read the whole story.
I’ll be back with more epiphanies next week (next month!). Until then, stay calm and keep reading.
Sudeepa
I grew up with one that my parents built. 'Built' would be a misrepresentation of facts. They just sowed and watered. Nature did the rest. 😊 Sadly, I do not have a green thumb at all.