Photo Credits Go To Zubin Oommen Ittyerah
Walking hand in hand towards rising hope, welcoming a new day.
On a road uncluttered and clear made of faith.
Cool, calm breeze ruffling the hair, could turn into a storm.
Reminding, urging to be one another’s pillar of strength.
Flowers of prosperity blooming, filling the heart with contentment.
Finding joy in each other’s company, feeling safe.
Street lights , the guiding lights, like the trust within.
For life will happen everyday if we have each other.
A flower, a fruit, a flower inside of a fruit, a fruit inside of a flower!
The brighter the Sun, the brighter is the fuscia. Colour intensifying with the intensity of the Sun as if sunlight flows in the veins of the bougainvillea.
The wind swirls the clouds in the sky like master strokes of an artist.
The trees reach up the sky to catch the candy floss in the making.
Gray hair of a lady blowing in the air.
Chiffon of a bride trailing behind her.
Waves in the sky, ocean upside down.
The beauty of nature is surely unbound.
Someone stole my pomegranate flowers.
I had been counting days, one day at a time, for the tree to be blessed with flowers. That day arrived when the buds appeared on the branches as tiny orange teardrops. Slowly growing bigger and opening up like little butterflies with delicate wings. But the tree discarded them.They were not strong enough to turn into fruits.
The wait began again, a few months’ time, slowly, one day at a time, weeks , months and the orange beads of joy appeared again. This time higher in number.They opened their wings again and yet again the tree discarded them.
The whole year had gone by, never ever had this tree been bare for so long. Miracles of the nature took charge, seasons changed and the tree was once again ready for blooming. Finally three flowers held tight to the stems, the stems bowing gently in their honour, supporting the growing weight. My spirits soared high, the wait was over. The flowers started swelling up like a pregnant belly, the delicate petals were starting to be engulfed and protected by a hard shell, half flower half fruit. I was going to be a proud caretaker.
It was a beautiful morning, I went to water the plants and there it was! A bare tree, as if it had suffered a miscarriage. I looked for the flowers on the ground as they never fall far from it, but they were nowhere to be found, it seems someone had plucked them.
How inconsequential the act must have been for that person? Just a fancy for orange flowers!
The same thing is true in life too, someone’s hard-work, life’s achievements, joys, pain rendered inconsequential in seconds by the inconsiderate action of another person.