India, Dec. 24 -- "How many more do you want to plant, ma'am? Your arbour is already thickly vegetated," said the gardener in an apparently exasperated voice as he dug the ground to plant the gulmohars, Pride of Indias, fig, and an assortment of other saplings that I had ordered. More plants meant additional work for him. "As many as I possibly can," I responded with a smile. Besides being our passion, trees and plants inspire my son and me, both avid photographers. Watching them sway in the breeze, especially on a rainy day, is refreshing. Their shade is cooler than that of an air-conditioner on any scorching summer afternoon, a fact verified by those who have laboured under them on sultry days. A glance at them washes away our stress and worries. While the world struggled with inundation caused by an unusually active monsoon and overflowing rivers and 'nullahs', our house continued to be a haven by the grace of God and the presence of these trees. We still retain a few of the eucalyptus trees that were once blamed for the depleting groundwater levels. Amid a drizzle, a labourer was hard at work planting a fresh batch of mango saplings gifted by a neighbour. "The monsoon is the right time to plant them as the rain will make them thrive," he said. Neighbours, who envy our sanctuary, have suggested selling it off for a fortune to the commercial establishments around us. Though we often struggle financially, our roots run deeper. Our land is definitely not for sale. While the trees stood bare, our garden was a battlefield, with many trying to usurp it. Others made lucrative offers, but our garden is a heritage of love we could ill afford to part with. So, we decided to populate it with trees. This year's monsoon bore testimony that this was the best decision that we had ever made. "Why do you spend so much on your garden? What benefit do you derive from it?" another neighbour asked. "Was your house inundated this monsoon?" I asked. He answered in the affirmative. "Did you see any flooding in mine?" I asked. "No," he hung his head and went away. "Didi, wait till Bollywood discovers your woodland. I'm sure they are bound to make an offer to rent your place for shoots," joked another neighbour. Will they? Only time will tell. But for now, we're content with the peace and beauty our trees bring....