Plucked Rose

“The moment you are happy, its time for you to leave the world”, anonymous. I wonder when I thought about myself or of someone close. Life was all that it was meant to live and all. Does life have a meaning? Should I seek for meaning or should I be living?

Her story was pretty much of the story of a rose and a sparrow. Where two existed with the greatness of the power of love until when the white rose raises a question,

“If you truly love me, make me the red, the brightest and the darkest red of all ”. 

The sparrow had no choice but to find the answer with a mind filled with chaos. The sparrow wondered the earth round and helpless finding his destination back to the rose.

The rose speaks, “when is my dream getting fulfilled?”

“Dear love, let me be by your side and the moment you wake up to the sunrise, you will see that you are red”, said with the voice filled with joy.

The bird sits next to the rose. Pecks his own body just to led the blood flow through the petals and turn them all red knowing that the doors of death will be open next.

I heard first love never work out. I wonder if she was my first or the last. A year already and my mind would see her still, taking coconut balls with a cup of affogato. Life is indeed a world made with thoughts and imaginations.

We were who we were meant to be. Fate was all that got control of I guess. 

Life grew in me so fast; She had already put windmills to her dreams. Life grew in me so slow; it feels like it was just yesterday.

In one of the days where Dechen found me cheesy and cute. I must have lived myself to my fullest. Or who knows I must have been crazy. I used to walk her home every day. Where in past we would just wave bye from the junction or from the taxi stand. Perhaps where does this kind of energy come from?

Does cupid really exist? Was he irresponsible when my turn came to show his magic?

I still feel my days with Dechen were some of the best moment I ever had in my life. The warm hugs, the days which never passed without seeing each other, the time sat together in cafes with cups telling stories, and how beautifully each of those days passed when we were together.

For once I felt like my dream on “To fly like a buttttterrrfly” was fulfilled. Well, it was fulfilled once for sure. Never thought a life lived in a dream that comes true would also have an end. Living life now feels so much more of a nihilistic. I have no dreams or goals now. Maybe I never had one. It feels like they never worked out at all. It at times feels like I am stuck amidst the cosmos. Where do I go? Where should I lead my soul that still temples her face?

It was at an autumn festival. The willow leaves of yellow and brown fell, the cheesy wind glamoured everyone’s presence, and all that we were supposed to do was to be together talk and creating jokes of one another.  As I saw the leaves fall right in front of her eyes with the wind shuffling her hair. I felt a lotus was sprouting from the core of my heart. The bliss still makes my heart beat a little faster today.

Dechen was always about painting her world of dreams. I was dreamless back then as well. Maybe I found my dream in living her dreams. Everything was so perfect. Of course, I never brought to her the topics of love and togetherness. I was afraid I might lose the one I  was making my moments lively with. But, I did one day. I asked her.

“Dechennnn. Would you want me as your rightful partner or as your friend only?” I did not know this statement had “stranger” in it as well. That’s what we ended up becoming. 

If a soft soul does not pick up the rose, some other soul will surely do. And she got picked up. Perhaps who had control over it?

One of my poem from those days read:

Seasons Change, weathers change
It’s their routine, it has its beauty
But how can a heart change?
How can your love have routines??

My intentions were pure
Pure as the fresh fountain spring water
I flowed, flowed through your veins
How can your love have routines??

Snowflakes sometimes gave you sorrow
While happiness at the same time.
But of the man travelling by. His eyes
How can your love have routines??

If for once, you choose the momentary soul
Laughter and glimpses and joy
But your ability to forget, even the scars
How can your love have routines??

Perhaps love was always about routine
Heart changes with summer while
Eyes with winter, and soul with autumn dry
How can your love have routines??

Guess, I never understood love !!

I hope Dechen is doing good. I feel like an immortal soul. If I am waiting for something, what am I waiting for? What is that particular thing that my heart seeks or achs for? 

When the world-known lovers such as Layla and Majnu, and Cupid and Psyche couldn’t find their true path on the eternal knot of love, who am I being one amongst a million sawdust?

In a world of cheese and butter!
The unknown source of lemon water.
Well, would you even feel better,
In days later?

Thank you so much for reading 🙂

This is Karan, an educator and a learner based in the Himalayas.