A journey of a bouquet of dead flowers: From dustbin to my desk:
It was the sad morning of 16th December 2022, when I woke up with this feeling of never having that someone special who would send me good morning texts. It would be an exaggeration if I say that I am craving for that kind of morning where I wake up to reading the lovely texts of that someone special. After all ,We are humans , and who will not like to be adored and wanted ? I started the day by cursing my fate which has kept me lonely throughout my life.
And it was the same dull morning I came across this bouquet of dead flowers near this dustbin it was lying there hopelessly, and waiting for somebody to pick it up. Poor thing. I mean who throws a bouquet in the dustbin ? I can never do that, if a flower dies in my arm, I always give it a great funeral and my books become their resting place. And then suddenly I got an idea so I decided to take it to all way with me to my college. And I clicked a lot of pictures with it which also exhibits my daily struggle from my room to the college.
When I was done with taking all the pictures, I was just going through it. And then another thing popped up in my mind. The beauty of the bouquet was faded. When I saw it, it seemed tired and exhausted. It was fed up with the process that we call “ life “ . Its owner to whom it had provided happiness, pleasure and solace, had abandoned it, suddenly the bouquet was of no use to its owner. And I started comparing myself with that bouquet . I could relate. But I was happy that I gave it a decent farewell. I reminded it of it’s beauty and charm, I applauded it for its fragrance, My attention evoked pleasant memory of its efficacy. The bouquet was happy and jovial for it knew it that I would not let it end up in the dustbin, My books will be its new abode. And while I was thinking about that bouquet. I contemplate my future too. Someone will come and see my worth , I would not have to make efforts. He will see my importance,the way I saw the bouquet. He will value me, the way I treated the bouquet. He will love me the way I adored that bouquet. Cause as they say “beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder ”
I will be good. My time will come !
It was not a bouquet of dead flowers but a bouquet of hopes and dreams.
© 2022 Marhaba Hilali