There lies a blue vase on the side table in my drawing room that I have been ignoring since yesterday. It has got a bunch of beautiful red roses that I wanted to throw the moment I received them.
I am otherwise a very loving and caring person who loves nature. So much so that whenever I travel in train and look outside the window, I almost grow leaps and bounds in size in my imagination and hug the biggest of the trees, in a bunch that is.
Crushing the roses and throwing them in the dustbin was the thought I just could not deal with. So I poured some water in my vase and let the roses sit in them for a day or two. Although I was ignoring them, I could see them sitting, mocking at me in every room.
I kept a wicked eye on them for wilting. I can throw wilted roses, that wouldn’t be cruel, I thought.
Have you ever felt the same? When you know the intent with which the flowers were given was not as pure as the flowers themselves.
Of course, I threw them the next day they looked “little” wilted you see. And for once I was glad to see my beautiful blue vase standing empty on the side table.