Sitting by the ghat like i always did, at a distance I saw a bed of flowers. Somehow I hadnt noticed it before. I thought that they must have been seasonal. Even a lazy person like me got attracted to the flower bed. I moved towards it, almost involuntarily. It must have been around 20 meters from the flower bed, that i stopped! I thought that I did not fit in the scheme of things! The whole scene was mesmerizing. The morning dew created a spark in the flowers. As I watched senselessly, this yellow flower caught my eyes. It was so different. All other flowers were either blue or red. But this one was outstanding among the already beautiful ones.
From a distance I saw the flower. I wanted to get a closer view. I moved towards the flower now. At around 5 meters, something stopped me again. I thought it was there, so tender so gentle. how could I change that! I stopped there looking at the flower. For 5 minutes all i did was saw the petals and the center of the flower from where the petals emerged, wondering how the petals meshed with each other beautifully augmenting each other's beauty. How the dew drop just held there at the edge of the petal and the flower shone with the dew drop. I felt that the flower had given the dew drop a meaning. The dew drop would have been so worthless without the flower! I thought of myself.
I looked around the flower. It was so dull. Except for the colours of the flowers which made the whole bed look brilliant from a distance, I could see nothing much to appreciate. The bush on which it grew was thorny, the soil was muddy and even weedy. The other flowers were pale and dull. All I could think was how this flower was a misfit in the surroundings. Something told me to pick the flower and take it home. I stood there for a moment. I went ahead to pluck it from the bush. The next moment, I stood there in a strange disbelief! Something stopped me. May be the brilliance of the flower itself. I went back and sat on the ghats.
That night, there was a lot of rain. It was the monsoon and I loved the rain. I Loved the ghats and the water in the river. It gushed with more energy and the air would have more mist and chill. I slept well that night. The next morning I went to the ghat. The first thing I did was go to the flower bed. As I went closer, my heart shook with fear. The flower was no longer there! The downpour of the last night had taken the flower off the bush. I stood there wondering why I had not picked the flower the previous day. I stood there wondering. The temple bells rang. The two children still fetched water from the well. The water in the river kept flowing faster. The chill of the air hit me differently. I stood there like a stone. Unmoved.
From a distance I saw the flower. I wanted to get a closer view. I moved towards the flower now. At around 5 meters, something stopped me again. I thought it was there, so tender so gentle. how could I change that! I stopped there looking at the flower. For 5 minutes all i did was saw the petals and the center of the flower from where the petals emerged, wondering how the petals meshed with each other beautifully augmenting each other's beauty. How the dew drop just held there at the edge of the petal and the flower shone with the dew drop. I felt that the flower had given the dew drop a meaning. The dew drop would have been so worthless without the flower! I thought of myself.
I looked around the flower. It was so dull. Except for the colours of the flowers which made the whole bed look brilliant from a distance, I could see nothing much to appreciate. The bush on which it grew was thorny, the soil was muddy and even weedy. The other flowers were pale and dull. All I could think was how this flower was a misfit in the surroundings. Something told me to pick the flower and take it home. I stood there for a moment. I went ahead to pluck it from the bush. The next moment, I stood there in a strange disbelief! Something stopped me. May be the brilliance of the flower itself. I went back and sat on the ghats.
That night, there was a lot of rain. It was the monsoon and I loved the rain. I Loved the ghats and the water in the river. It gushed with more energy and the air would have more mist and chill. I slept well that night. The next morning I went to the ghat. The first thing I did was go to the flower bed. As I went closer, my heart shook with fear. The flower was no longer there! The downpour of the last night had taken the flower off the bush. I stood there wondering why I had not picked the flower the previous day. I stood there wondering. The temple bells rang. The two children still fetched water from the well. The water in the river kept flowing faster. The chill of the air hit me differently. I stood there like a stone. Unmoved.
