“It just doesn't work. Counting alone is not enough. He closes his eyes again: the fungal spores spread by the wind settle on the first leaf, forming olive-brown spots on the top and a whitish layer of fungi underneath. The second leaf initially turns glassy-rotten, later develops typical gray mildew. In the veins of the third leaf, it is difficult to detect the insects, size of only a few millimeters, without a magnifying glass. It smells like starchy spray against pests. Unfortunately, too late for the fourth leaf. Due to hail, storm, frost, drought, etc., the damage appears in varied ways, for example, the fifth leaf is curled up, hardened and gilded. The sixth leaf, once the largest, has constantly shrunk, even to the size of a toddler, pieces of arms and legs, green-black, soon brown-black ... ”

[a night of Kamlesh Meena's quarantine on the tree]