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- Pournima Barhate
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A wilted yellow rose fell off my cupboard when i hastily opened to grab my diary. It had been ages since i had complained to her about the behaviour of dear ones near me.
That yellow rose preserved by someone special lied in my shelf, waiting for its turn to hit the dustbin. I was rather too adamant to accept the fact that it was now over. no yellow rose. for the friendship too seemed to wilt with it. stagnant it felt. maybe too much of love, made them not value me? Or did they lack being given enough ‘personal space’? Was i wrong? or were they? did they know I possessed a heart? or they didn’t? did they realise i breathed? or they stopped? did they realise i was still alive? or did they kill me from their lives?
conveniently unanswered…
I picked up the once-yellow rose, which was brown by now. plucked a petal, thinking ‘they care’. then another ‘they don’t’. then ‘they do’. ‘they don’t’. until there were only the filaments within remained.
Recalled the dissection of flower during school! Yes botany was indeed my favourite subject. Maybe because plants are more sensitive than humans. They just don’t hurt.
“Ouch!!”, I shrieked.. a dried up thorn pricked me.
Beautiful flowers can also hurt!
And so can beautiful relationships. The more beloved people, the more susceptible we’re to hurt. Or we let them invade too much into our personal space, that they start being a part of your rose. and them leaving is like a petal falling. and soon the beautiful flower renders ugly.
One must keep the loved ones like the drop of water that falls on petals, together yet separate. The velvety rose maintains its distance yet not let it become a part of. A learning experience? Maybe!
But ever felt so deeply hurt that you wanted to throw the petals of life away n walk off? I just did.
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