Flowers in the City

 

I landed in the City of Joy, Kolkata (Calcutta) in the monsoons of 2007. Oh what a monsoon it was! It drenched and drowned the city, This City was my dream every year when I came into the city as a "tourist" I had a dream of living in this city and in the year 2007 I finally realized my dream but how! This matter shall be discussed after but what was amongst the first things to catch hold of my attention was the flowers. In the most uncouth of the places you will find them all fresh and ready. Flowers for all purposes, entwined with the life till death. Marigolds for Gods Roses for Lovers, afterall these are the two things that are with the city maybe even before the city was born love for God and love for the Carnal instincts and our skewed confused and vibrant origins tell us all about our famed and loved and cherished promiscuity.

 I sighed when I saw ladies intently selecting roses for her lover half flower half bud, promising to be a beautiful manifestation of full blown youth while it opens, indication of the virginity the lady holds physically while her mind swings in the bouts of sweet ecstasy of eroticism on seeing her lover. My days of love were gone maybe too soon, actually think it twice my days of pining away in love burning in the agony of parting ways was never long lived, my addiction for a person was so short lived and I was so self absorbed that I never truly loved anyone but myself, so, guess a flower for my narcissistic self.

You will never find happiness and joy so hand in hand living in a beautiful harmony as this, a bouquet for the happy beginnings and a wreath for the sad partings which might be a happier beginning for the departed.....who knows?

My fast moving feet stopped when I saw a couple selecting the best bouquet as a gift for a special occasion alongside of a disheveled son  in mourning choosing the best wreath for his parent-the last give ever to be given. Strange white is the colour of peace and mourning, indicating may be that while it's mourning for us but it's the ultimate peace for the departed. Red being the colour of love and war both may indicate that too much of passion may be for both will leadto destruction so be addicted to them if you crave doom. Preachy? maybe but can't help.

Though not very old, I still remember rummaging the entire neighborhood in my search of particular flowers, leaves for those special days of worship we became wanderers explorers, pseudo botanist, geologist, thieves, pirates, negotiators and what not. We searched amongst the wild shrubs, we peeped in the households, sneaked for that one leaf, grass, flower; negotiated with the elders if caught, showed puppy eyes and ran fast and hard if everything failed and now when I see all my childhood collectables and my hard earned expeditionary success comes easy in a package starting from five rupees, but this easy access doesn't have the scent of childhood innocence, along with my innocence lost is the innocence gifted to God I guess.

You will seldom find a young man selling flowers, this is the foray of ladies the older the better, Their grey old age sits there quietly almost mocking the colours of the flowers, they betray the corporate norm of retiring at sixty, they somewhere make us realize that all opposites mingle and become one at a point.