The child with the flower.


I was out with my mom for a walk. We believed we were ready to lose weight before this majestic function and give up on our favourite foods. Oh,who were we kidding? On the way, I saw a child bugging her grandmother to get her the beautiful flower but the moment she got it she saw me and rushed to me with it. She offered me the flower but I was hesitant to take it because she really wanted it. She kept on insisting so I finally took it and resumed our walk.

Despite all the things that happened,my mom was surprised at the flower as she was busy sharing a 5 minute talk of her life with the neighbour. I explained that the child gave me her flower and was sincerely so happy about it. For me, I was really selfish at that age and it always melted my heart to see children who are so kind. They were so pure.


Throughout the walk,I had the usual tendencies of peeling of the stem, plucking out the petals and just throwing the unseen loveliness into the abandoned sidewalk. But the moment I touched it, something bugged me. I withdrew my hand immediately and concentrated on other stuff. I didn't want this flower to suffer the same fate. I was so conscious about it. I could feel myself destroying the flower in my mind, but I personally willed my hand to stay back.


Because I had only one thought. To return it back to the child and tell her because of her kindness,I felt so happy walking along the same road I always used to take. I wanted to tell her that my hands which I considered to be not beautiful looked so aesthetic with the flower. I so wanted to see her smile that my heart was already bustling with joy. I thought of telling her that people smiled at me and told me I was looking pretty today but I didn't want to lie. She has to realise that sometimes even the truth itself brings tons of happiness.


The flower intact,I stood at the entrance of her house. She was not there. She wasn't waiting. She never expected it back. Should people never? I slowly walk forward,my pace slowed down, the flower hanging so carelessly. My heart was breaking a bit. I had this moment planned out but it wasn't meant to be.

The flower had somehow survived to reach my home. I raised my hand to throw it away but brought it down and gently placed it on the ground.

I was very disappointed that I couldn't see her but then a very irrational thought hit me. Isn't the flower metaphorical for everything we feel?
It is handed over to someone,expressed to someone. Often, we let it stay within us and rot,and then cry of its misfortune.
Others are oblivious to it, about others and it only makes the person holding the flower to shrink inside. We often feel like destroying it, suppressing it,and pack it off to the unwanted area of our heart. But sometimes we hold on to them because of how it makes you feel.

But in the end, you realise that the moment it was handed over, it's reins were broken and was let free. It will only come back to you when it wants and unexpectedly. But you wait anyway. Till then, you place what you felt in that open place where you can notice it, water it, let it grow but somewhere deep in your heart you know it will die, unnoticed.

Like the flower did at a place where I don't remember anymore.

 P.S. It feels good to let it all out. The photo was just pure luck. It turned out strangely aesthetic though.

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