Today’s word is flower (see note at the bottom for context). This post is about flowers and me, our relationship.
As a child, I remember my mother asking me to go down to the small garden we had in our house to pluck flowers, with which she would then adorn the pictures of various gods/deities we had in our house. I don’t remember admiring the beauty of the flowers or enjoying the fragrance. However, there was a sense of happiness in collecting flowers for the gods. In the southern part of India, it is common for certain communities to strew flowers all of the road as they take their loved ones to the cemetery. Rose, I distinctly remember, was the preferred flower. For a long time into my adulthood, until a few years ago, I could not enjoy the fragrance of roses as I associated it with dead bodies. We lived not very far from the cemetery, so I’d see at least one or two funeral processions pass by my house. It wasn’t a big deal, just that the flowers all over the road put me off. It wasn’t exactly the red carpet I wanted! 😁
Fast forward 30+ years. Me and my wife are on our terrace, plucking flowers from a garden she’s carefully assembled. It is a beautiful sight now, the terrace (photos in this post). She asks me rhetorically- “sometimes I think I should not pluck these flowers. They are so pretty. However, when I see them at the end of the day wilting, I wonder if I did injustice to the ones left behind. Will they be sad that they don’t adorn the gods, and it was just by chance that they got left behind?”. I sarcastically said- ‘God is man-made. Flower is god-made. Must be better to leave them on the plant?”. Of course, I understood what she meant and these days we pluck most of the flowers so that we can use them. Looks like we settled on an answer. Some days we don’t go to the terrace and the flowers live their full lives- they blossom and wilt in one day. As I write this I wonder- are we like gods to these flowers? Some get to live a full life, and some get plucked rudely at their full blossom. Isn’t human life very similar; the youthful are suddenly taken away from us for reasons unknown to us, and some stay on, until they wilt? The only consolation is that we assume that they are taken away for a better purpose, like to adorn the gods instead of staying in the plant and wilting. I feel like writing a few lines of poetry-
Flowers and humans.
Flowers, flowers. Bright and purple.
Bright and purple. Soft and fragrant.
Soft and fragrant. Prettiest patterns on them, layers and folds.
Prettiest patters on them, layers and folds. At full blossom, they are most beautiful.
At full blossom, they are most beautiful. They are lovely to watch.
They are lovely to watch. One can get lost.
One can get lost. Until the flowers wilt.
Until the flowers wilt. You forget how they blossomed.
You forget how they blossomed. You wait for the next day.
You wait for the next day. More beauty will bloom.
More beauty will bloom. More will wilt.
More will wilt. We don’t think twice.
We don’t think twice. We move on knowing that is life.
We move on knowing that is life. A beautiful flower or a loved one.
A beautiful flower or a loved one. Move on we all have to, today or at the end.
Move on we all have to, today or at the end. The beauty of today is still around.
The beauty of today is still around. Life is still the same between you and the flower.
Life is still the same between you and the flower. Live in the moment and you shall see.
Live in the moment and you shall see. At your fullest bloom then you will be.
Flowers flowers. Bright and purple.
Whenever I look at flowers when I go for walk these days, I feel a sense of joy; at least on the days I notice them. Some days, I have so many things running in my mind that I’m barely present. Some days, I notice how beautiful the roads look with trees on either side, I notice bright flowers, I feel the wind on my face, I feel my feet hitting the road; those are good days. I feel at peace when I go for a walk like that. It is not a matter of luck that it happens. I make up my mind to be present. Some days, I forget. Some days, I remember, but I don’t have the will to stick on and I get lost in thoughts. All of this is good by the way, in case sounds like a sad story; it is good because I’m able to notice what happens. I need to remind myself every morning before I go for a walk that I have to be present. A sticky note somewhere noticeable perhaps?
Note: This is an experiment I started a few days ago. I write about the first word that comes to my mind. I write spontaneously. No thinking, planning, researching. Obviously, a lot of what I write will come from what I’ve read. I don’t claim that what I’m writing is accurate or what I’ve experienced. It is what comes to my mind when I think about the word. Also, I’m not following any format. The other posts in this series:
