I met Mr Franks at Susie?s birthday party. ?See that gentleman over there, blowing up balloons,? Susie had told me, ?He?s old Frankie, my grandpa?s closest friend ? lives in the Home for the Aged. He must be 80 at least!?

I took a great liking to Mr Franks the moment I started talking to him. He had zest and enthusiasm for life, despite his failing health ? and the most interesting stories to tell. His anecdotes kept us laughing and amused throughout the evening.

As I rose to get back to my school hostel he said, ?Why don?t you come and see me at the Home sometime? Though of course you might think it boring to sit and chat with an old man like me!? I assured him that I did not think so, and that I would surely come with Susie to the Home to meet him.

From then on I met Mr Franks every Wednesday. Wednesday was my day off from the school hostel. I would spend the mornings at Susie?s and after lunch, I?d walk down to the Home, sometimes with Susie and sometimes on my own. He would be relaxing in his tiny doll?s home garden, his lanky frame curled up in a cane chair and soaking in the warm winter sunshine. Susie and I would troop in, chattering shrilly like a couple of magpies.

?Ah! Come in ladies!? Mr Franks would straighten up and ask us to sit down. ?Do mind that flower bed! I?ve just planted the sweet peas!? That he had been an expert gardener in his younger days was no empty boast. He had a beautifully kept garden and a large number of certificates to prove it. Some of the certificates had been framed and they now hung on his veranda walls, yellow and dusty with age.

Mr Franks had served in the army, and somehow most of his anecdotes were a hilarious mixture of botanical and military life. ?You know, young ladies,? he told us one day, ?Misunderstandings can be quite embarrassing sometimes! Once when I was away on leave, our unit mess got the electricity connection they had been wanting for quite sometime. Now I was obviously in the dark about the latest development.

When I came back, the colonel called me and asked me to get new bulbs put in the entire mess. I informed him that I had already put in the bulbs, and could not now put in new ones. He was extremely angry at me for disobeying orders and we continued arguing. It was only much later that we realised that he were talking of the electric bulbs and I of the lilies!?

Most times that I went to visit Mr Franks I took something for his garden ? a packet of seeds or a couple of small terracotta pots. Or it would be a bougainvillaea cutting of a colour, which he didn?t already have.

?Thank you, my dear,? he would say, ?It?s nice to know that you are interested in the plant world as well!? Then together we?d plant the seeds or put saplings in the pots. ?You know, child,? Mr Franks would tell me as we worked, ?Plants too have feelings. And they grow better if you treat them like friends!? He would point to a healthy and robust fern growing in one corner ? ?See that young man there? I talk to him everyday and he?s always happy to see me!? .

(Illustrations by Suman Choudhury)

To be concluded next week

Vandana Bist’s short story, Dear Mr Franks first appeared in the children’s magazine Target edited by Rosalind Wilson. It was later published in the short story collection, The Carpenter’s Apprentice, by Katha, a Delhi-based non-profit organisation and publishing house.