I looked at the porthole for a long time. There, a small
white pot planted with a succulent leaf caught my attention. How long has it
been when I planted it there? Weeks? Months? I couldn’t really remember. As I
went near the plant for closer examination, I saw that molds grew around the
leaf, some part were already eaten out to rot. I knew from that moment that
hoping for the plant to live is futile, and it’s only a matter of time for its
very existence to cease.
It’s my fourth time to be in a commercial vessel. And in
every vessel, I always make sure to raise a plant, give it a name, and talk to
it sometimes like it’s a real person. Pretty crazy huh? Believe me. When
working on a ship, you will somehow awaken that craziness inside of you from
time to time.
As I said before, it is my fourth time to be in a commercial
vessel. Yet, I managed to grow a plant on board for the fifth time. That fifth
plant was the one I placed near the porthole. I watered it as necessary, tilled
the soil and bathed it in sunlight. When
the first roots became visible, I was overjoyed. I was excited for it to grow.
I was excited that somehow, when it turn into a small shrub, it will take away
the gloom of my room.
That excitement turned into sadness when I saw that death
became imminent for the poor plant. I already pictured out how lovely it will
turn out to be, teeming with life in its small niche overlooking the blue
ocean. I already imagined how it will make a small difference: an escape from
my exhaustive day’s job and how it will make me smile on days that I might feel
sad. So much with the expectations I burdened this small plant that it seemed
to have given up on itself.
I wondered where I had gone wrong in the past months for it
not to continue to grow. I remembered how I carefully sifted the soil in its
pot. I have made sure that it is neither too wet nor too dry. I did everything
that I know in rearing this type of plant but this very moment proved that all
my efforts are in vain.
And then I realized that all this time I didn’t gave the
plant a name. It’s quite weird because I named all the plant I had in the
previous vessel, except for this one. How come I wasn’t able to name it when I
cannot contain my excitement for it to grow? Perhaps I was too occupied with my
expectations and my vision of the future that I forgot naming it. Perhaps
subconsciously, I decided that I will name it when it is full grown, with
leaves, flowers and all. A name doesn’t matter now though. Soon, it will wither and die and rot in the soil.
I looked at the plant and felt the melancholy once again.
This time, things were reflected on myself. I grew up believing that I always
have a green thumb. The belief that I
can grow a plant no matter how harsh an environment could be turned out to be
just a mere delusion. I was wrong to assume that I can and I will always be
able do such feat. I was so full of myself until a slap of reality brought me
back to my senses and made me realize that there is no such thing as a perfect ability.
That realization and the memories that had happened in the past days enveloped my room in a gloomy atmosphere. It's inevitable. I closed the curtains of the porthole and decided to lay down for a moment. Staring blankly at the ceiling, I knew that everything will no longer be the same.
