by S. Thulashi
It was a fine evening. The west looked amazing, brightened with the
hues of the sunrays. I was all alone, returning from my aunt’s home,
swinging the polythene bag filled with mangoes which she gave me.
It was when I thought that days are becoming too boring and how
wonderful it would be if something abnormal happens, I saw the strange
thing by the wayside. In a jasmine plant, amidst the other flowers a
golden flower has bloomed.
The petals were sparkling and reflecting the golden rays of the sun.
The flower was so brilliant, as if it belonged to another world.
 Though I was a little reluctant to go near the plant I couldn’t
resist my desire to inspect it. I slowly walked towards it and with a
trembling hand plucked it.
The golden flower was in my hands...I put it inside the bag with the
mangoes and went home swinging the bag.
As I expected, nobody at home believed my tale about the golden
flower except my little sister. It was because she was too small to
think of and reason out.
Everybody thought that it was a fake flower and I was pulling their
legs. I too didn’t bother much to make them believe.
When the moon shone I went to bed. I took the flower with me and
placed it on my pillow, until I fell
asleep I kept on admiring the flower. The next morning I put away all
the pink roses from the vase and put the golden flower in it.
Days passed.
Though in the beginning I thought the world of it, day by day I
ceased adoring the flower. I became frustrated with people not even
caring to look at the flower. Though I gazed and gazed at it I couldn’t
find any kind of beauty in it except the fact that it was golden. Though
the petals were glittery, they were hard and rough. It lacked the sweet
fragrance that even the simplest of flowers inherited.
At last I made up my mind to get rid of it. I threw away the golden
flower and filled the vase with sweet smelling pink and white roses.
How placid and sweet they were! The golden flower was nothing next to
them.
After all, the normal and usual things are more nice and pleasurable
than the unexpected and outstanding. |
