Sonu, our gardener, is a typical millennial. He likes trendy jeans and expensive sports shoes, commutes on a motorbike, frequently varies his shades, and doesn’t like getting his hands dirty — which is a disadvantage in his job. He has been tasked with tending to the plants at home, which isn’t really arduous, but Sonu is a shirker. He won’t compost, fibs about re-potting, grumbles when plants need to be lifted indoors, and is often truant. The only thing he is diligent about is frequently ordering saplings from a nursery — “for a commission”, my wife informs me. He is
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