THE TALKING RED ROSE

“Viru, Viru, wake up child…”, my mom came yelling into my room at 7:00 a.m. It was a murky Sunday morning in the month of August. The sky was overcast with dark grey clouds, making the weather seem poignant and atrocious to me. At that moment I realized that this Sunday isn’t going to be any different than other days except the fact that it was my birthday!

Suddenly, both the pattering sound of rain and my mom’s voice distracted me from my thoughts, which were a regular phenomenon for me. Mom said, “Virina, wake up and get ready. It’s such a beautiful day and it’s your birthday! Get up, let us enjoy”, with an unusual tender voice. My mom speaking to me pleasantly was not regular. We were not much close, but an incident had brought her near me since the last one year.

I woke up from my soft, black bed, reluctantly. The tapping sound of raindrops was still annoying me. I hate monsoon, not because of the fact that it is messy and irksome, but because I lost someone due to the rains last year. My father. It was raining heavily, everything was blurry in front of his car and that’s when a truck came rushing from the wrong side, bringing an end to the only person who belonged to me. As I saw him laid in the hospital bed, covered in white attire, blood all over his forehead and sleeping as peacefully as he can, I knew that it was me who had lost my peace. Since then mom has been taking utmost care of me just so that I don’t “do something wrong” to myself. I have no idea why she is scared. I would never do something wrong, as my father had trusted me to be as strong as a warrior. After all, he named me ‘Virina’ after believing me to be the most powerful daughter. Yet, life sometimes challenges you very badly and all you can do is bear the pain.

I quickly finished up my bath and dressed up in a simple, plain, pink dress my father had bought me just before the accident. It was supposed to be worn as nightwear, nevertheless, I wore it every alternate day as it had his smell- his everlasting feel, smelling like roses and a box of smooth, creamy decadent milk chocolates. Chocolates were something I ate every day just to never lose his presence around me but roses…I didn’t get to experience the moment when he used to bring me roses on my birthday and any special events. Roses! Oh, how that word rends my heart and makes me sob!

However, that Sunday, I didn’t feel the urge to sob. Rather I was shocked as I found a beautiful, fresh, red, fragrant rose waiting for me on the dining table. Along with it was a note which read as, “Happy birthday to my pretty princess. Here is something which would make you feel special. Love, mom.” It dawned upon me that she was trying to understand me, love me, and most importantly help me go through the loss. Even she might have been experiencing the same but I had decided to never take the effort to console her, especially after all that she had done to me in the past. I went to my room again, to get lost in my shell, to go through all the pain once again, but this time with the rose which reminded me of him. Mom asked me to sit with her for a while but all I could reply was, “Later”. I don’t know if I sounded impertinent, but at that moment all I wanted was some time with the rose which apparently had small dew drops on it and was shining due to the narrow beam of sunlight falling in from the window.

I was about to smell the rose when an uncanny thing happened. One petal of the red rose fell off, followed by two more petals after a gap of a few seconds. To my surprise, all the petals kept on falling, till one was left along with the thorns on the stem. And that was it. I got angry that my mom could not even gift me something properly. As I was about to go and scream at her, I heard a noise behind my back. I turned over and was astonished to see the rose with a single petal grinning at me! As far as I can remember, I fainted off and fell to the ground. When I woke up, the rose smirked and said, “I thought you would have fainted for more than fifteen minutes. It has been only ten minutes. You are pretty strong!”. Intimidated by his response, I replied, “How…How can you speak?”. With a snigger, he said,” Did you forget that we flowers are also living beings! We have a life too. But anyway, that is not why I can speak. I was gifted with this characteristic but I don’t exactly remember why.” I stared at him confusingly. He was strange. At that second, I doubted if he even knew what to speak and what not. “Why do you look scared?”, suddenly his voice brought me back. “It’s nothing”, I replied. After a few minutes of scanning each other intricately, I spoke up, “ Why did you lose your petals?”. This time he did not have a smile on his face. Instead, he sighed and said, “You see, I am getting old. I know you would blame your mother but it’s not her fault that I am falling apart. It’s just me”. I immediately felt the rise of guilt within me but overcame it quickly. I murmured, “ I still cannot forgive her!”, with a rebellious tone. The rose by chance had heard me. “What is it that makes you think of her in that way?”, he asked me out of nowhere. “Why would I tell you?”, I replied disinterestedly. “Well, it’s completely your choice. But I can assure you that I won’t be going on telling everyone about your secrets. In fact, I don’t even have anyone to approach”, he said with a laugh. It was fascinating, how he laughed everything off. It seemed as if his sadness didn’t dominate him, or maybe he wasn’t sad at all. I couldn’t tell it from his stance. Not wanting to open up, I instead replied, “Why, don’t you have your own family?”. He was shocked. “Girl, are you from another world? We are flowers. Roses. We hardly get a life, let alone family. The moment we are cut off and sold to a florist, we lose everything.” “Don’t you miss everyone?”, I asked, getting more and more interested gradually. “Yes, of course. But it’s just a matter of some days, you know. Everything in life is temporary, even pain. We can get over it if we want.”

For a moment, I was lost. Then I asked further, “What about the rest of your life?”. He gave me a friendly, cute smile and replied, “ I have friends, other roses, at the shop. We stay together, play, and enjoy until someone comes and buys us. The florist provides us with water and keeps us fresh. He is a good man, you know. It’s his compulsion to sell us off for his living. What can he do, poor man.”. I was surprised at how the rose was able to sympathize with such a rude person as a florist. After all, he is the one who steals their life, for a petty thing as money!

“She abandoned me when I was born…”, I spoke, feeling that it would be better if I shared everything with the rose. He seemed confused. I repeated, “ My mom abandoned me.” He was now amazed. He was out of words, I guessed. But I was wrong. He asked me further, “ When did she bring you back?”. “ I don’t remember but my father was the one who brought me, took care of me, and made my mom believe that I was not a burden but a gift. And then she kept on trying to come closer to me, her efforts go in vain”, I replied remembering my spoiled childhood. “Why haven’t you forgiven her yet? You should move on!”, he advised me. Anger flushed within me. I replied, “ Do you even know what you are asking me to do? She could have spoilt my entire life. She threw me away from everyone. I would have never met my father!”, with these words coming out of my mouth, I began crying. I was reminded of my father and all the hardships I had faced in the past. The rose kept looking at me, giving me time to come back to normal. “I would not console you. And there is a reason for that. What your mom did was wrong but she doesn’t hate you. If she did then she would not try to understand you even today. She loves you Virina. Try to go deeper and find out what caused her to do that back when you were born.”. He continued and said, “ All of us are bound by choices and circumstances. The gardener isn’t impudent. He cuts us off as he doesn’t have a choice but to provide his family with necessary requisites. The florist does the same thing. They choose the better option, considering the situation. What we roses do is look at the brighter side. We lose our family and friends, but at the same time, we get to carve happiness in someone else’s life. Today, if it hadn’t been for us, two lovers would have been missing the alluring moment of exchanging roses as a token of their love, many old aged people would miss receiving flowers on their 50th anniversary eve, daughters like you would never be gifted roses on their birthday by their fathers…”, and with this tears came out again from my eyes. “All I am saying is, everyone has their own hardships to sustain. Learn to forgive and it will bring joy to someone else. And trust me, making someone happy is the best thing you can do. It lets you die peacefully.”, he stated with a pleasant smile. Later, the rose seemed to be lost in his world and so I decided to get sleep due to all the sobbing I had done.

I felt a soft touch on my forehead and that woke me up. It was my mom. “You again fell asleep, are you not feeling well Virina? Should I get you something?”, she asked with a worried look on her face. I replied, “ No, I am fine. You can wait for me outside. I will come soon.”. She went out of my room, still looking bothered. That’s when I came to know how difficult it would have been for her to bear both the loss of her husband and the behaviour of her daughter. I remembered the rose and stood up to search for it. I finally found it on my study table, kept neatly, and looking a bit stale than how it was when I received it but with all the petals intact. I was taken aback. Before I could hastily go out and tell my mom about what had happened, I came across a small note beside the rose, torn from the corners. I opened it and began reading, “I hope you had a good time with me. It would be better if you keep this a secret and don’t tell your mom. You don’t want her to be worried about you having supernatural powers, do you? Haha! Virina, my point was, get out and try to recognize everyone’s troubles. We all have choices to make. Forgive those who have hurt you and apologise to those whom you have hurt. Life is too short to keep grudges. I died too soon. I couldn’t let you enjoy my fragrance. But I don’t want you to do that. Make your mother glad. Remember, you do belong somewhere rightly so go to that place and live happily. After all, your father would have wanted the same, wouldn’t he?

Yours truly,

The talking red rose.”

I opened the door and walked out of my room slowly. I sat beside my mom on the couch and gave her a side hug, maybe because everything would seem very fast if I clung onto her tightly immediately. This time, she didn’t look worried. It seemed as if we both had found out the place where we belonged and there was a force somewhere letting us know that we were safe.

I spoke up softly, “ Mom, do you mind getting me another rose? The one you brought died too soon. I want to cherish more of it.” She gave a smile which slowly turned into a brief laugh. I smiled back and we sat looking at the rain, falling quietly outside the window, wondering how easily hate can turn to love.