My dearest beloved daughter and son,

My earlier words—about life blossoming through storms—may have planted seeds of courage in your noble souls. Today, I reflect on the varied hearts that walk this earth: some lift, some wound, all shape the world. Your spirits, fragile yet fierce, are gardens where kindness blooms or thorns take root. Guard them, but let them grow wild. For even in shadows, light finds a way. 

The world is like a garden, filled with three kinds of souls: flowers -good people, who spread kindness like sunshine; weeds-bad people, who harm others like poison roots; and clumsy critters-stupid people, who cause chaos by accident, not malice. 

Just as a garden needs balance, humanity thrives when we nurture the good, resist the bad, and guide the thoughtless. We can’t erase weeds or stop critters entirely, but we can choose to water the flowers—planting hope, pulling hate, and believing beauty grows even in the mess. When life feels dark, remember: keep planting.

There, sunlight dances on petals of roses, daisies, and lilies—their colors bold, their fragrance inviting. These are the 'good people': like flowers, they nourish the world with kindness, patience, and selfless acts. 

A teacher staying late to help a struggling student, a neighbor sharing food during a storm, or a stranger donating blood—these are the blooms that make the garden worth cherishing. Yet among them grow stubborn weeds, tangled and thorny, stealing nutrients and space. These are the ‘bad people’: those who lie, cheat, or harm others for selfish gain. 

Dear Kaali and Kaale, 

Like weeds, they spread quietly, poisoning trust and choking joy. A scammer tricking the elderly, a tyrant silencing dissent, or a vandal destroying public art—their roots run deep in shadows.

But the garden holds another surprise: curious rabbits, distracted squirrels, or clumsy deer—creatures that trample flower beds by accident, not malice. These are the “stupid” people: well-meaning but thoughtless, causing chaos without intent. 

They’re the friend who shares a secret they shouldn’t, the driver who blocks traffic while texting, or the crowd blindly following bad advice. 

Like creatures unaware of their footprints, their actions leave messes they never planned. Yet even they belong here. Gardens teach us balance: flowers need weeds to appreciate their own strength, weeds remind us to protect what matters, and clumsy creatures show the value of patience and gentle guidance. 

Dear Lumbini and Siddhartha,

Just as a gardener tends to all three—watering blooms, pulling weeds, and fencing fragile beds—we too can choose to nurture good, resist harm, and forgive mistakes. Life’s garden isn’t perfect, but its wild, tangled beauty lies in how all these forces coexist.

Good people are like sunflowers, always turning toward the light. They shine with kindness, helping others quietly, sharing what they have, and spreading hope like seeds in the wind. Imagine a stranger finding a lost wallet and returning it, a neighbor sharing their umbrella in the rain, or volunteers serving meals to the hungry. 

These acts, big or small, are like sunshine warming the earth. They remind us that even in hard times, goodness grows. Just as sunflowers need light to thrive, the world needs kindness to stay alive.

But just as a garden needs both sun and soil, life needs balance. The warmth of good people’s hearts fights the shadows of the world—the pain, loneliness, or anger that sometimes creeps in. Think of a community rebuilding after a disaster, friends comforting someone who’s grieving, or teachers inspiring students to believe in themselves. These acts don’t erase darkness, but they keep it from taking over. 

Like sunflowers standing tall in a storm, good people teach us to keep reaching for light, even when shadows stretch long. Without them, the garden of life would lose its color, its warmth, its reason to grow.

Dear Patu and Siddha, 

Weeds are like bad people—they grow where they aren’t wanted, stealing light and space from others. Bad people harm on purpose: they lie to trick, steal to gain, or hurt others to feel powerful. Imagine a bully laughing at someone’s tears, a greedy boss stealing workers’ wages, or a thief sneaking into a home at night. 

These acts are like invasive roots, wrapping around healthy plants and choking them slowly. Their poison spreads, turning trust into fear and joy into doubt. Yet, just as gardeners yank weeds from the soil, society can fight back. 

Laws, kindness, and courage act like tools to cut away the worst of the harm, protecting the garden from being destroyed.

But the garden’s troubles don’t end there. Alongside the weeds, there are creatures that ruin things without meaning to—like rabbits nibbling carrots or moles digging tunnels through flower beds. These are the “stupid” people: not evil, just careless. They share secrets they shouldn’t, ignore warnings until disasters strike, or repeat mistakes like a broken record. 

Dear Lumba and Dalle,

A friend who forgets a promise, a driver causing a jam by texting, or a crowd spreading false rumors—their actions cause chaos, but not out of malice. Like weeds, they disrupt growth, but unlike weeds, they don’t intend to. Gardens teach us that life is messy, but even in the mess, balance is possible. We can pull the weeds, fence off the rabbits, and still admire the wild, tangled beauty of it all.

Then there are the rabbits nibbling carrots or moles digging tunnels, unaware they’re ruining a bed of blooms. Stupid people act without thought, causing chaos through ignorance, not malice. 

They share fake news believing it’s true, ignore warnings until disasters strike, or repeat mistakes like a broken record. Their actions aren’t evil—just thoughtless, like a rock tossed into a pond, creating ripples they never intended.

Dear Mellow and Bhai,

A garden needs all three. Flowers remind us to grow toward goodness. Weeds teach vigilance against harm. Clumsy critters nudge us to share knowledge patiently, not angrily. While we can’t erase weeds or stop moles entirely, we can water the flowers, pull the worst weeds, and guide the wanderers. 

Life, like gardening, isn’t about perfection—it’s about tending, learning, and believing that even in the mess, beauty persists.  

So when the world feels heavy, remember: light, shadow, and confusion have always coexisted. Our job isn’t to despair but to plant more flowers.

With all my love that way more than you can imagine, always,
Your Baba