Flowers

This story bears more facts than fiction. Though I have not encountered such an anecdote before, I have heard of several true stories of people I have no connection with. The characters are totally fictional. When you are done writing a story, you just know whether it's good or bad. I felt glad after writing this piece.


FLOWERS


“I did it girl! I got the Job!” said Chris on his phone as he carved his way through the busy pathway.

“Yes! I know. I wanted to tell mom first, but I also wanted to tell her in person, which of course will take some time” he paused “So I decided to give the good news to you first.”

“Of course you are dear! Now come to my house with your parents today umm..” he glanced at his watch “.. at six. Ya, six would be okay.”, he managed to step aside from the lunatic stream to concentrate more on what he had to say.

“Sure. Ok listen, I’m getting some sweets for her, what else should I take?”, he looked around scavenging for something worthy.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know. Think now.”, his eyes were still searching for the perfect gift.

“Flowers? My mother told you she likes flowers? I didn’t know that.”, he was perplexed by her assertion.

“Ok I’ll get some flowers, see you later. Bye”, he put the phone back into his pants pocket and started walking gently sifting the environment.

‘How am I supposed to get flowers at this time of the day? It may start to rain in some time’ he looked up at the cloud covered sky.

Nevertheless, he kept walking forward. Hawkers cried out loud to earn their livings, vehicles moved up the one way road, pavements yet packed with the lunatic stream. The only thing that kept people from snapping was the wind that blew through the wide streets marking the arrival of a dreadful storm. But all these were the least of his concerns.

Finally he came across a small dilapidated store with the words ‘Mary’s Flowers’ skilfully carved on the board above it. The store was on the footpath right where M.G. Road and R.C. Street met. Pots with colourful plants kept at the bottom beside the empty ones. On both sides just above the pots were columns made by wooden planks that housed seeds, aster plants and other equipment. The shop was small. Three persons, including the shop owner would fit inside it but a fourth one? No, it was made for only two people to enter at once. Near the chair where the fat lady – the shopkeeper – sat, was a table, decorated beautifully with flowers. Crimson, azure, pink, colours from the rainbow itself. A person interested in flowers could tell the variety of flowers available, but Chris was not one of them.

“Welcome Sir, what do you want?” asked the fat lady smiling to him enhancing the mole on her cheek.

“I am looking for some flowers”, he moved his head all around enticed by the beauty, just how a geek would react inside an Apple store.

“I understand that. Which one do you need?” she kept smiling.

“I am not sure. I don’t know a lot about flowers” the aroma of the place had placated Chris.

“For whom do you need them? Roses for your love, lilies, and daffodils for someone hurt, these local violets are fresh” she would continue if Chris hadn't interrupted her.

“Okay, here is the thing. I wish to surprize my mother on a very happy event and I only realised she likes flowers. I don’t know what flowers she loves or what flowers she hates. Please help me out here” he said exhaling a deep breath.

“No one can hate flowers. I think she will love any one that you take for her. May I ask what the auspicious occasion is?” she said politely.

Chris smiled and said “I had been working hard to get a job abroad. I finally grasped it today.”

“Oh, congratulations!” she looked happy “Then you should take Jasmines. My son brought them for me when he got a job in England.”

“Oh! Where does he work? I too have gotten a job there.” He grew inquisitive.

“I am not sure, I haven’t talked to him in quite some time” she said picking up the Jasmines.

“He hasn't called and when I try to call him every Sunday, but the phone says the number is not available” she turned around to grab some packing material “Technology today is very complicated, in our times we had telegrams and posts, at least I understood how they worked, but these cell phones are really complicated.”

“I’m sure he is fine. Long distance calls are not that easy you know. The time zones are different, then there is bad connection and so much more” he smiled “When did he last call you?”

“It will be six years next month. Here, I have packed your flowers. And also a small rose from my side to your mother, I hope she does not hate roses. That will be 150 Rupees” She smiled.

Chris stood there for a moment, too scared to move, he took out a 500 Rupee note and gave it to her. She was still smiling.

“Sorry I have no change” she said.

“Keep it.” He replied and turned back.

“I can’t do that Sir. Wait I’ll get some change for you.”

“There’s no need.” He knew the lady wouldn’t keep the money, “We’ll manage it sometime else, when I buy some other flowers.”

He walked outside and the first drop of rain fell on his forehead followed by a barrage of thick water droplets. It grew cold. Chris was drenched but it didn’t matter. The rain didn’t matter. The crowd kept moving up and down the pavement, vehicles rushed through the wide street. Hawkers put up plastics to cover their stalls. Chris stood in a corner drenched in chilling water looking as far as he could see, looking out how nothing mattered.