The flower girl

Truth is-I am all alone.I haven't met a single soul who even came close to understanding me.I spent my days in a melancholic haze.My life felt like an empty photo frame.It had this gaping,glaring space in it,screaming for something to fill its hollowness.The days flew by.Like a flurry of photos without color or substance.Dull,dark and just shades of gray.

They say love comes from the most unexpected corners.Maybe all those nooks and crannies of romantic companionship were just booked for other people.I would probably have to walk this parched earth alone.With a tormenting thirst drying up my soul.I was trying to make peace with my lonesomeness when suddenly,at a small flower shop,my eyes fell on her!

She had a delightful forehead,whose soft contours delicately arched upwards in perfect symmetry.Her eyebrows were dark brown and deep.They alluringly complimented her tresses.Her hair was unkempt,like a gorgeous riot of untamed flowers in the wilderness. But I could just imagine how spectacular she would look with her tresses neatly parted in the center of her head.Her skin's hue reminded me of a trip through a field full of golden corns and clear sunshine.She was sitting pretty,her golden splendor in full bloom among all the daffodils and dandelions in her shop.A comely,cute nose.Soft chin and cheeks.These beauteous features completed her graceful face.An enticing smile sat on her well-formed lips.It bewitched me.

But it was her eyes which I couldn't forget.Her angelic face had the most exquisitely painful eyes.Circles of mourning had sucked in softly her otherwise pleasing eyes.Why was she so sad?Her pain hounded me.

I clicked as many pictures of her as I could from afar and left.

The next few days I spent staring at her pics.Her neck was long and looked tender.Its slenderness felt like that of an ornamental flower vase.Her slim arms and svelte body conveyed an image of frail daintiness.She seemed so sylphlike.Thin,supple and graceful.I wished deeply to just wrap her delicate,vulnerable self in my arms and protect her from any storm which dared to rear its ugly head against her.Her pained eyes flashed repeatedly across my mind.I wanted to give up my happiness to ease her sadness.

Let her have my share of joy and mirth.She deserved it more than me.
My mind drifted back to her flower-shop time and again.I felt like I was out of my body and swimming through a maze of pure white lilies to reach to her.My heart seemed to be caught in a furious wind in a storm.I was slowly growing numb and cold.I was falling in love.
I stalked her.I stalked her to her home.I stalked her when she visited the forests to collect flowers.I stalked her when she accompanied her ageing father to the doctor.I suppressed every natural instinct,resisted every maddening impulse to go and talk to her.And a month passed away like this.

Until,one day,I finally mustered the courage to walk into her shop.

“Well, how may I help you Sir?” she asked.Her very first words to me.

“Err…Can I just look around?” I honestly didn't know what to say.I just wished to stare at her longingly throughout the day.Watch her water the plants,re-water them.Watch her attend to the flowers and talk sweetly with her customers.

“I mean, if you don’t mind. I’m a photographer actually. And, I want to click pictures of you. Sorry. Of your flowers I mean.” I looked and her and grinned sheepishly.

 “Sure,” she said, and turned away from me.Cutting me off.
“Just, just don’t touch any of the flowers,” she quickly added and got back to her work.

I was starting to have second thoughts about all this.She most definitely was uncomfortable having me around.I wondered if I should just go away.But something made me stay back.My mind fumbled trying to find ways of striking a conversation with her.At a loss for ideas,I just continued clicking pictures.She continued to look after her flowers with so much of care and affection that it almost made me green with envy.

“Do you mind if I come back again tomorrow? I can help you around if you want too.”I asked before leaving,half expecting her to summarily reject my advances.

 “Yes, I wouldn't mind.” The words glided out of her lips spontaneously,surprising me.She seemed to have uttered those without deliberation,without a second's hesitation.Maybe,just maybe,there was hope.

The next day,I chose my attire carefully.This day was supposed to be a make-or-break opportunity for me;I could just feel it deep down in my gut.I had to be my best today.

And so I was at her shop again, carrying with me a basket of strawberries for her.As she neared the shop, I waved at her.
“Hey! Good morning.” I said,my lips pulled back into a wide grin.

“I’m so sorry for keeping you waiting.” She quickly opened the shop, and let me in.

“This place is beautiful, you know. The smell, it’s so refreshing.” I meant every word of what I said. “Oh, and here, I got strawberries for you.” I placed the basket on the table and sat down infront of her.

“Thank you. It was very nice of you.” She smiled so politely I felt my heart skip a beat or two.

And then, we indulged ourselves eating the strawberries, talking about flowers and about photography.

"I wonder what happens to people when they pass away," I mused,munching on the strawberries."Have you ever wondered that some of them may have just become a flower?And they are waiting for you?Waiting for you to touch their silken petals,marvel at their softness.You know,you could just hold them between your fingers.
Be careful though!
You should touch them...delicately....lightly.You don't want to hurt them.You just want to bring your face close to them and inhale their sweetness.And with each such breath,a memory comes back to you.
Of happy times with that person.You start breathing more deeply.Taking in more of the fragrance.And the memories come pouring into you even more strongly.Until you feel overwhelmed by the intense joy you are experiencing.Almost as if you have been transported to another reality.Where the person is still with you.Smiling.Happy.Glowing.Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

"Yes," she replied after a moment's thought."That would be splendid.But people generally want their near and dear ones to become stars in the skies.That way,you just know they are always there.Watching you.Watching over you.And their light will never fade out.Flowers wither.Flowers die.They leave you.Stars don't."

"But stars are so far away,"I protested."You cannot touch them,feel them brush softly against your cheeks.You cannot let your fingers enjoy the luxury of playing around with their smooth texture."

She was gazing intently at me now."You are right.But stars stay alive.Like a glimmer.Of hope.Of happier days in store.My mother.I miss her so much.She passed away when I was too young.My father pointed out a star in the sky and told me that my mother has become that.I look upon it every night.I makes me feel at peace."

"Maybe she has become both,"I offered with a gentle smile."Part of her essence has become a permanent body of light,giving you nourishing hope and strength.Part of her has become the flowers you so lovingly attend to every day."

She flashed a quick look at a vase of lilies sitting in the corner of her shop."My mother used to make tiaras out of lilies for me.And then when she left,I never wore one again." She turned back to look at me,painful memories almost ready to burst forth from her eyes in the form of tears.

“Would you like to come out with me sometime?” I asked. Before she could answer, a customer interrupted our conversation, and the matter was buried.

I spent the day helping her decorate bouquets, clicking pictures and keeping her company.

“Don’t you have anything else to do apart from coming here?” she called out to me, as I walked out of the shop.

“A lot. But, a flower girl’s smell brings me back here everyday!” Saying so,I took off, and she stood there, watching me, smiling.

The End

P.S.This piece of fiction is actually the result of a collaboration between Philo and me. My story ends here.:-)
For the rest of the story,you have to visit Philo at http://staryeyedandscreeming.blogspot.in/2012/02/flower-girl.html
 Her part of the story will blow you away.Trust me.