WHY would anyone try to downsize a perfectly normal healthy growing tree is, or rather was, beyond me.
Let me say at the outset that I am no expert on Bonsai, the art of shrinking the shrubs. But if you have nothing imminent on your hands and you are into pots and plants, read on.
A few weeks ago there was a Bonsai exhibition in the Frere Hall gardens. Ever inquisitive, I went to see what the miniaturized trees looked like.
On display were a variety of Ficus, Tamarind, Guava, Pine and Chikoo trees, to name a few. Those whose trees were on display included the Corps Commander, Karachi; a naval officer and Dr Shaukat Syed. The Bonsai exhibition was a feast for the eyes. Exhibits were not on sale and it was strictly window-shopping and did we shop! I did not — rather dare not — ask the price for these were priceless objets d’art.
Bonsai takes time, labour and patience. On query, an official gave me, begrudgingly though, a flyer with some useful hints on how to saw, cut, mutilate and chain (wire) a prospect.
The art of dwarfing trees started in Japan, or it may have been China. They were also the first ones to put iron boots on their women to keep their feet from growing. Having succeeded with that, they turned their attention to the trees. Small is beautiful and small trees look pretty. But it is no easy task. I began to think I could turn my overgrown potted Fiscuses into midgets by trimming, pruning, uprooting and placing them in the redundant fancy ashtrays dotting the drawing room. It may look simple enough on paper, but in practice it is quite difficult. The devil, they say, is in the details.
Training a bonsai takes 3 to 4 years and then some. A full grown Ficus religiosa (pipal) may take ten years to complete. So if you are a teenager, it is as good a time as any to start stunting your trees. By the time you are ready to transit, you will have a treasure trove of dwarf trees to bequeath to your posterity — provided by that time the SPCP (Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Plants) does not spring up. To my mind, starving, suffocating, twisting, warping and cutting a living being is bordering on cruelty. The ensuing beauty, they say, is worth all the excesses you may have committed. It’s your tough luck if you happen to be a plant!
Immediately on return, my head full of notions, I pulled a Ficus long island, dusted and nipped its roots here and there and squeezed it into an ashtray. I took care to cover its roots with soil. I could feel that the poor thing was cramped but it could not be helped. The trick is to keep the soil moist by creating near-drought conditions and saving it from direct sunlight. In other words, my Ficus was on a strict diet. Its leaves yellowed and started shedding. Its branches dried and so did my hopes. I cut the dried twigs till only the stump remained. I also talked to it. Nothing special, just a little pep talk like: “Come on, you can do it. I’m counting on you”, etc.
I forgot to mention earlier that at the bonsai fair, a lady had told me that talking to the plant was part of the Bonsai ritual. I told her it did not seem to be the right thing to do and if I got caught in the act, my wife would take me to the doctor. (My wife discusses everything with her Siamese cat, which according to her Universal Manual of Eve, is perfectly normal). In response, the lady informed me that Prince Charles talks to his roses regularly. “See my point!” I shot back but she did not get it.
So there I was, indulging in a monologue with my growing, I beg your pardon, stunting tree. Just when you think you have seen it all, something brand new turns up.
Two months into the Ficus tending, and I had almost given up. Nothing was happening. I kept up the vigil. Sometimes I would stare at it as if to glare something out of it. My wife said I might as well be nursing the telephone pole on the road. I had half a mind to pull it out to have a look at its roots but resisted the urge. One morning, I noticed a speck of green barely visible with my reading glasses on. Sure enough, something was happening. I raised the ashtray level to my face and whispered: “Thank you.”
WHY would anyone try to downsize a perfectly normal healthy growing tree is, or rather was, beyond me.
