One day a princess came to the garden, innocent and beautiful just like the rose. She had taken an early morning sojourn into the Garden to see the sun rise, the garden come to life. But also to dry her wet hair in the sun, let the perfumed air from the garden fill her nostrils and caress her hair.
She breathed in deeply taking in the smells that the garden emitted. Loving the freshness of a dew drop filled morning.
As she was drying her hair, she saw the gardener water the plants and care for them like a loving father. She remembered her own. She signaled him the beauty of his work in appreciative gestures. Gardener smiled, asked her if she wanted to keep a rose, a white rose. She nodded she loves flowers, their beauty, their fragrance, she said.
Gardener almost cut the rose from the plant. She halted him as from the corner of her eye she saw Him, the prince. The stern unyielding Prince who hated flowers. But she wondered isn't that contradictory, if you hate flower why have them in your garden?
The rose had been eager to go to the princess well its existence was to spread love and it knew the princess was in love. She had smiled looking at him. But before it could find itself perhaps in her hands, her hair, her desk she had gone, run away on seeing the Prince who never gave it any attention. It sulked, oh today i have stay on the plant and spread love from afar, it thought.
Just then the Prince came, it thought if only I knew how to cower, shrivel up even on the plant, fall off perhaps because to be looked at with scorn by the Prince was surely fate worse than death. But as it thought of ways to pretend dead, it saw something that made it stand straight, in all its glory.
Lord behold, the Prince smiled. Was it dreaming? It asked a thorn to prick it. "Ouch" it said when thorn complied. The Prince came near it, cause it was the very one that the Princess had admired. He touched me, it thought, would miracles ever cease? It was the lightest caress, like feather that made it smile. It sprayed a little more fragrance to entrap the Prince. Take me with you, bemoaned silently the rose, Take me with you.
The Prince must have heard, it jumped for joy. For, the very next minute it found itself in his hand, Oh the first touch brought bliss and almost doors of heaven shown, for its very purpose was that much near fulfillment. To spread love. And the Prince was in love. Wonder of wonders, it thought!
Oh the Pirnce had surely fallen in love cause only a fool in love would talk to himself. It had heard stories from cousins who had seen their brothers and sisters fools who talked to them in love. Ah! today seems to be my lucky day it thought.
Just then it saw the Princess come down the stairs, the Prince ready to give the flower. But wait, they have company. The Prince quickly put it next to his heart, protected from scornful eyes that were enemies of lovers.
It sat there waiting for its journey's end, hearing the steady rhythm of the Prince's heartbeat. Slowly it was brought out and then put in a ----FILE? Why there it wanted to scream the Princess was to the right. Maybe she will take the file and hence me it surmised not unhappily.
But fate had something else in store, it had to go through pain to show love to the Princess, it first found itself in one pair of hands, then other and then third. And before it could stop itself from reeling, it was gravity working and itself falling as if from a skyscraper, hurtling down at a breakneck speed.
Save me, it screamed, but no one heard. Princess, it cried out but they were arguing amongst themselves instead of attending to its bruises.
It felt hurt. So this was what real world was all about. Pain, rejection. It wanted to go back to the garden, back on the plant. But alas, the umbilical cord was cut, never to be joined. It lay there, shattered to the heart. Just when it thought it had met fate that was sure death, it was picked up slowly by .....oh thank god...it gave a silent prayer, the Princess.
Before it would rise in elation, before it could rejoice, it got another jolt of its life....
it found itself int eh dark hole. a pit. cast away like it was a thorn, not a flower, thrown like was not needed.
It thought is this my fate, a fate that surely is death?
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