Saturday, September 01, 2007

All in a Day's Work

They are born to be used. Dressed up to look their best, they are sold for money. Rudely taken from their homes, they huddle close to others of their kind until someone uproots them a second time, bundles them together with strangers, and hands them to an unknown entity.


They will never return. Having water to drink will not ensure their survival, and they will start dying.


Before the day is over, some of them will apologise. Some will express undying love. Some will form beautiful, but inadequate, expressions of sympathy. Some will just look good. Some will smell good too.

People will be drawn to their natural beauty. But no one will care to look deeper. To see beyond the obvious to what remains unspoken as the wilting flowers are thrown away after they have outlived their utility.

Happy birthday.

Congratulations.

I love you.

Marry me.

My sympathies.

Get well soon.

Missing you.

Those are the things we make flowers say for us. What would flowers say if they could speak for themselves?

10 comments:

Diligent Candy said...

Achcha hai :)

the mad momma said...

bahut achcha hai

Anamika said...

DC and MM: Now waiting for someone to top your comments with 'bahut bahut achha hai!'

OrangeJammies said...

fantastic! you're on a roll!

Anamika said...

OJ: :) thankye thankye

Mystic Margarita said...

If flowers could speak for themselves, they would definitely thanked you for reading their minds. Bahut, bahut, bahut accha hain! :)

Anamika said...

Mystic: Hmm...so if you see someone on the streets of Bombay lending an ear to some garrulous gladioli, you'll know it's me! :)

Tharini said...

Ana : They would say...
Dear Anamika...we bow to thee, our voice, our crusader, our soul-speak!

Anamika said...

Tharini: Hee hee, that makes me feel all powerful. "Mogambo khush hua..."

the mad momma said...

they woud say - anna you write beautifully. but then candy and i already know that.