The Florist Part-II

With a heavy heart I returned back to the hotel. It was quarter to nine. I took the keys from the reception and moved silently towards my room. It was misty outside with the mist sailing smoothly in the moonlit night. From my balcony I noticed some guys enjoying a bonfire on the roadside. The white smoke of the bonfire and the mist were together under this moonlit night. How different they were but still together. That’s Mother Nature.
I skipped my dinner that night and slipped into the bed as I had to wake up early. I knew the next day would be very tiring. I was in mussorie to attend my best pal’s marriage and Monday was the day when it was scheduled on. I had to look into the arrangements for the event from early morning. I was planning for the next day’s arrangements and within no time I fell asleep.

"Let bygones be bygones" was first thought of the day when I woke up at seven. It was totally a new morning. The mist was no more and nor the smoke. The felt brighter than usual though the sky was still cloudy. I was badly missing my gym as I never used to skip it. It was part and parcel of my daily routine. I was bare bodied so I looked into the mirror just to inspect that if those curves were still in place. I did some isometric exercises to retain them back. I finished all my matutinal engagements within an hour and finally left for the wedding garden. I intentionally skipped taking the same route by which I had the last night.

Mussorie Gardens, A-23, Mall Road

It was half past nine in the morning when I reached Mussorie gardens. The preparations had already started for the grand evening. So without wasting the time further I started looking for some department where I could help . After exploring all the opportunities I thought “Let’s help my friend’s brother in setting up the stage for the marriage”. I approached him and asked if I could help him out in any of the tasks. He greeted me with a big smile and said that if I could look into the decoration of the stage. “Sure”, I said. It was a big stage to be decorated. The red beautiful carpet of silk like material and the magnificent piece of furniture which resembled like throne were all lying there. I caught two of the servants and asked them to arrange the things properly. "Where are flowers and the bouquets" I asked one of them."Babuj, they have just arrived" said the servant in low pitched voice. "Take me to the place where they are lying" with the statement I followed him and he took me near the gate of the garden.

They say "You can run from your present but you cannot avoid your fate", and to my surprise this was true. She was there with her grand-father and with the cart full of flowers which I was looking for. She was looking more beautiful than ever before. More captivating and alluring. I avoided looking at her but was in vain. Meanwhile the old man recognized me and asked about my well being. I thanked him and replied back. I asked them to come in and offered the seats. The old man murmured "Babuji, My daughter cannot see, she is sight-less. Can you help her to occupy the seat"? I was Astound, speechless, and got shivers down my spine with those last words. Oh, I couldn’t believe that such beautiful eyes were sightless. I felt chagrined and stood numb. The blood in my veins freezed. She was not arrogant the last night but I was ignorant. I cursed myself for my delinquency. I cursed god for his heartlessness. I experienced a pain deep in my heart. I admitted the fact that god had not given her the privilege to admire her own beauty and I was the fool who was expecting her to admire the unnatural curves of mine. I was overwhelmed with the feeling of remorse and disgust. My heart was pounding upon me. Slowly I moved my hand to hold hers, as gently and as graciously as possible.

The Florist-Part I

Sometimes some imaginative things come real and you always wonder "Is it really happening". They say "Life is not a bed of roses" but at times you fail to accept the truthfulness of the statement. The dreams can never be reality but for me the reality was a dream when i first glanced at the paragon of beauty on one of the finest sundays of my life.
The affair dates back to the summers of 2008, a leap year. It was an evening, when i thought of promenading along the street to feel the parky weather of Mussorie. The dim orange light from the traditional lampposts of the Indian hill stations was paving the way on the street. I was wading through the breeze that was hitting against my face giving me a sensation of mild shivering. With that breeze i could able to smell the aroma of roses blended with fragrance of lilies. I looked around with an inquisitiveness to discover the source and my eyes rested over the floweriest, dressed in immaculate white, with her hand holding a bouquet of flowers some of the variety of which were alien to me. What was known at that moment of time was that the captivating smile on the dimpled cheeks was peerless. I stood numb and aghast for few minutes till a old man interrupted me and request to help him out to go on the other side of the street, where the magnetic florist was dealing graciously with the customers.
The street was not so busy but the person was quite old, in his late seventies or may be in early eighties. The visibility was less not just because of the absence of fluorescent tubes but misty weather made the task arduous. I recollected the algorithm on "How to cross the road" documented in one of my third grade books and executed it to perfection. Now I was on the other side of the street, just in front of her, feeling frostier than before. I smelt the aroma of flowers on the other side of street but this side it was of floweriest. My lips motioned for an ingenious prayer to the deity to express my gratitude for his blessings.
The old man spoke in a murmur and expressed his gratitude. I acknowledged back with a smile. That was not all from his side and he started the conversation with me. He introduced himself as a grandfather of the beautiful florist and her ten year old brother who was assisting her. His words gave hope to my thoughts of getting introduced to her. This was the first time in my life when I was so nervous. The anxiousness to get known to her was proliferating with each tick of the clock and was adding to my nervousness. With every single minute I was inching towards her. Each of my senses wanted to capture the radiating warmth of her beauty amalgamated with the fragrance of flowers.
I noticed something strange during my conversation with the old man. She didn’t even glanced at me though I was standing just few steps beside her. I started feeling conscious about my appearance. Am I not good looking or I am not appealing the beautiful? Such uncanny thoughts were making me feel uncomfortable. The breeze had come to rest now and the darkness of the street had entered in my thoughts.
May be she didn’t like me. And she had all the reasons to ignore me. "Beautiful gals are arrogant" that’s what I heard from my colleagues saying most of the times when they fail to draw the attention of the girl they like. And I always use to counter the fact by saying "Beautiful gals like handsome guys". This time the ball was in my court. I am not too handsome for a match to this lady but not bad too. I am 6 ft tall lad with the strong gym toned muscled body. My outfits were revealing my muscularity. The body curves were visible all over my clothing. My appearance was appealing but to my surprise she was still busy with her job. She is arrogant; yes I had to believe my friends now. A bearer best knows where the shoe pinches and that’s how I realized the truth.
I broke the conversation with the old man by excusing that I was getting late. He passed a smile and I reciprocated by with the superficial one. My face turned pale and I felt no urged to stay back. I failed to realize that I was becoming possessive for something which is not mine. I looked at her once again with the hope that one glance of her will break all my misconceptions about her. But I was hoping against hope. She was emotionless and was still occupied. With that burden I made a move from the place in still air. The darkness was growing with every single step I was taking to get away from her. I still had a corner in my heart for her but had no reason to explore it back. Noetic activity was at peak with my brain processing more than thousands of thoughts per second and each though was of hers.(to be cont..)

The MODI-fied IPL

Raining boundries,quick runs,breaking wickets,dancing beauties and the freaking crowd are the things which Modi dreamt about some three years back. He carved out his ideas, garnished it with BCCI's political hold on the International Cricket and served it to the cricket aficionadios. The recipe smelled like a rose for the public but was smelling fishy in the background. Finally after three years somebody opened the beak and tweeted that it was actually overcooked.
Was modi really serving the overcooked recipe? Its still an enigma for the voracious cricket fans. But its true that the IPL is MODI-fied. The whole scam came as blot from the blue on the authenticity of IPL. It hardly matters if Modi or Tharoor steps down from their ranks but what matters is the fact that IPL is derailed from its true nature of being entertaining and rewarding. The match fixing allegations and the involvment of BCCI officials has further detoriated the situation.
Who should be blamed for all this? Is it justified to blame Lalit Modi only who forayed into market as new entrepreneur, a CEO of $4.13 billion industry, or Mr Tharoor woke up and smelt the coffee but for his own personal interests. We are unable to look behind the conspiracy. Its nothing less than a well laid out plot aginst Modi by BCCI officials which is now in execution phase and likely to end with modi ostracized from the elite group of BCCI officials. My thoughts are not biased for modi but here it is required to understand the fact "When it is a question of money, everybody is of the same religion".
Tharoor is out in the semis and now expect a final between Pawar and Modi. Watch out for the MODI-fied IPL's final LIVE on 3D screens.