A Palm, a Promise… and a Painful Lesson

It was the first plant I ever bought with my own money — a tall, lush Areca Palm with golden green fronds dancing in the breeze of my tiny rented flat in Pune.

I had just moved for my first job, away from home and familiarity. That palm was more than just a plant — it was my symbol of responsibility, peace, and fresh beginnings.

Every day after work, I’d clean its leaves with a damp cloth, mist it (twice!), rotate it for “even sunlight,” water it religiously, and even play soft music. I did everything I read online.

And within a month, it began wilting.