I am growing a mustard plant, when I sowed the seeds they germinated like a rash, many in number. But only one has survived and is doing well. The plant is on the verge of putting out flowers, and as I wait for the first blossom of yellow flowers I visualize the golden hued mustard field where Kajol runs into Shah Rukh’s arms. And, I also long to cook sarson – ka – saag that I once ate with makai roti in Dhaaba Express. I have not confessed this fetish to my gardener and he for sure is seeing something else in my mustard plant. He holds his hands at the level of his hips and says that the plant will grow as tall as that. I look at the farmer from Dindigal in my gardener and wonder if he has plans of harvesting mustard seeds from my lone plant! There is no way that he is going to allow me to cut the leaves to prepare sarson-ke-saag whose recipe I have spent a good part of Sunday searching on the net.