Monday, May 12, 2008

The Most beautiful Flower

The park bench at a park in AGRA was deserted as I sat down to read one of my boring school books Beneath the long, old, shaggy looking willow tree. Disillusioned by life, books in my mind with all good reasons to frown, the entire world was dragging me down. And if that along with my exams schedule weren't enough to ruin my day, A young boy out of breath after running a mile approached me, all tired from play. He stood right before me with his head down and said with great excitement, "Look what I found!" In his hand was a flower, and what a boring sight, with all its petals worn - not enough rain, or too little light. I Wanted him to take his dead flower & go off to play, I gave him a fake smile and then shifted away. But to my surprise, instead of going he sat next to my side & placed the flower near to his nose and exclaimed with a surprise & a smile, "It smells pretty and I find it beautiful, too. That's why I picked it; here, it's for you." The flower before me was dead. Neither vibrant, nor exuberant of colors. But I surely realized that I must take it, or he might never leave. So I reached for the flower, and replied, "This is Just what I need." But instead of placing the flower in my hand, the boy held the flower mid-air without reason or plan. It was then that I noticed for the very first time that this very boy could not see: he was blind. I did hear my voice shiver, and tremble. As I thanked him for picking & giving me the very best one. "You're welcome," he smiled, and then ran off to play, Unaware of the impact & impression he'd left upon me on that very day. I sat there and wondered how he managed to see a self-pitying man beneath an old willow tree. How did he know of my self-indulged plight? Perhaps from his heart, he'd been blessed with true sight. Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see the problem was not with the world; the problem was me. And for all of those times I myself had been blind, I vowed to see beauty, and appreciate every second that's mine. And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose and breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose and smiled as that young boy, another weed in his hand about to change the life of an unsuspecting old man.

1 comment:

Rohit Saxena said...

Wonderfully written and narrated .... and every word of this writeup has a deep meaning .... keep the good work up :)