My mother sat on her designated chair at the oak dining table, brushing my little sister’s hair. On the stove in the kitchen nearby, a small pot began to sizzle, so I went to take it off the heat and pour the tea into the colorful but dull ceramic mugs that were clearly handcrafted. I brought them to the dining table, only for my sister to complain about the scratches and rough texture of the cups and how she did not want tea. The tea was made with cardamom and turmeric, amongst other ingredients to help relieve pain, and was made especially for my sister, who did not appreciate the bitter taste of it. “Qudrat ko kabhi chairna nehi chahiye. Woh hum, aur hum woh,” stated my mother assertively. Her words meant that one should never meddle with nature because it and we are essentially one.

Her appreciation for nature was exemplified when my cousin was getting married. Due to my mother’s being an artist, she was given the task of designing or getting the bride’s jewelry. Instead of going with the conventional heavy and decadent bejewelled sets, she sat at the dining table all night and crafted with her own hands the most intricate jewelry set from the delicate nimble Arabian jasmines that grew in our backyard. The next morning, instead of jewels, bright white flowers were intertwined in the bride’s braid, which cascaded down her shoulder, and on her ears and neck, making her skin glow radiantly. The simplicity of nature had outdone itself, leaving no room for comparison with cold, icy jewels.

The next morning, to celebrate my cousin’s engagement, we hosted a local musician qawal to perform outside in our backyard, and that evening, the fairy lights brought out the best of the tall jacaranda tree under which we sought the comfort of music, the colorful pansies, petunias, and chrysanthemums, as well as the cheerful vegetable garden. To own a garden so well kept and flourishing is a reason for pride, and my mother doesn’t hesitate to host events in our home for this very reason.

Our house is rather small. My sister has insisted that we should expand the house into the backyard, but my mother refuses to listen. She had always dreamt of a sizable home and a large lawn. The house is made of bricks, which have started to fade, the gate is wooden and inside, the walls are white or stone. In most rooms we use the fireplace but we do have electric heaters (of course at the request of my sister) and outside in the backyard one can only see stone, grass and trees — nature.

Luckily, we are very close to nature in our community. We gift relatives arriving from abroad with flower garlands, shower an incoming bride with rose petals, take a regular yearly sabbatical to the northern areas of Pakistan, use homemade recipes — like the turmeric tea — rather than medicine, and we appreciate the gifts nature gives to us, as we all should, rather than abuse it.