Story about a Rose

Among flowers, the rose has carved its own place in glory. Its beauty and fragrance are unparalleled. Although roses have thorns, they have never driven away lovers of beauty. It is hard to imagine a flower garden without the presence of roses. Flowers are the most beautiful things in the world, and among them, the rose is one of the finest. After seeing some rose gardens, I too once felt the desire to plant a rose sapling. When it was in bloom, I  would stand close by to admire its beauty and immerse myself in its fragrance. I was still a school boy then and spent much of my days outdoors, in the wide world under the open sky, close to the soil. I would watch shrubs, marshes, herons, and woodpeckers up close, in complete solitude. I would watch closely kingfishers, woodpeckers, and kites, all alone, in the bushes, thickets, and wetlands, and reach out to the tiny ants wandering on wild flowers, letting them crawl on my body too. Hearing the cicadas calling at noon, it felt as though they had managed to bring some celebratory treat within reach, and their exuberant noise rose from that triumph.

One day I collected a rose sapling from the nursery. Now it was time to plant it. I couldn't decide where to plant it because in my mind I cherished it like a treasure. What if  I planted it outside and cows or goats ruined it? While thinking about all this, an idea came to my mind. Actually, the true refuge of wisdom is contemplation. When contemplation comes to an end, wisdom dims. After reflecting on different options, I gathered soil in a corner of a room without a roof on the second floor of our house and planted the sapling there. There was plenty of sunlight here, so I don't have to worry about the plant getting enough light. Only daily care needed to be provided. Then one morning I would see a freshly bloomed rose, looking at me with a grand smile.

I watered the plant every day. It slowly started to grow. One day, I saw a beautiful bud on one of the branches of the plant. I felt overwhelming joy because the appearance of a bud means a flower will bloom soon. But a part of me was also worried. Not all buds are fortunate enough to bloom into flowers; many wither before they ever open, just as many children never get the chance to get an education and claim their place in the world with dignity.

Anyway, my fears were proven wrong as the buds fully bloomed into roses. I thanked the Creator from the bottom of my heart. He allowed the wish of a small boy to come true. Every day, I leaned toward the blooming rose, inhaled its fragrance, and felt a kind of irresistible thrill in my heart. While doing this, I absentmindedly pricked myself several times on the thorns of the rosebush. But the prick of the thorns could never hold back my irresistible desire to touch the rose.

I started using the soil where I had planted the rose plant differently. Whenever I got some pocket money, I kept them in a small piggy bank. But I realized that if I suddenly needed money, for example, if the ice-cream vendor appeared unexpectedly on a hot afternoon, I would have to struggle to get the coins out through the narrow hole in the bank. So, a better way to keep the coins for future use is to bury them under the soil. Then, whenever needed, I can use a spoon or stick to remove the soil and take out the coins as needed. As you think, so you act.

So I took out all the coins from the piggy bank and buried them in the soil next to the rose plant. Whenever vendors came around selling chocolates, cotton candy, or jalebi, I would quickly run and dig out the coins from my secret place and buy myself a treat. Sometimes I couldn’t find any coins because I forgot that I had spent them all.

Clouds drift by as time goes on. It was time for me to leave home, as  I had finished high school. Now I was preparing to go to a distant city to go to college. I would have to leave my family and friends and everything I grew up with and move somewhere else. Secretly, I also felt sad for the rose plant. Who would take care of it in my absence?? But this world is just a stage of coming together and separating. No one has the power to ignore this rule.

One day, one has to leave home, leaving everything behind in accordance with the natural course of life. Many of those who leave home, or have to leave, never return.  In the past, in search of prey, primitive humans had to run here and there, and even today, in the 21st century, people go from one country to another, from one city to another for many different reasons. In the past, travel was limited due to a lack of vehicles, whereas today we can travel far by car or plane. Although the form of this movement has changed, its fundamental nature remains the same.

But let’s return to my story of the rose plant. After six months away, I returned home during my college break and saw that the plant had almost died. There were no leaves or branches left. The soil, dry from lack of water, had become as hard as stone. I poured water and used a hoe to soften the soil again. I quietly told myself it would survive. Hope, no matter what, is what keeps us alive. To give up hope is to remove oneself from the flow of life. Clinging to the faint hope that the rose might survive, I left home once again to be swept back into the rush of city life.