The ditched girl was walking head down, as if there was something important on the footpath. She has enough of fighting. This is the time when a woman realizes that she has to hone her own weapon, her own strength unique to her, or at least unique to her gender. All the luxury of imagination has gone to void. Utter black of darkness is all around her. All the love, that was once of primary importance to her, has now become secondary, including all aspects of life. From here, there is point of singular return, or no return. She looks up. Her beautiful hat became vertical from horizontal. "I have to face the life", she said to herself. Raw confidence enwrapped her. Oh, how she loved his hairy chest, she cannot but think of it. Large chest does not necessarily mean large heart, she now knows. Reaching the main road she called a cab. "Straight ahead", she ordered. As the buildings and other cars were passing by, she sank into the seat. Her heart is breaking into particles, she felt. Never to come back again, never to rejoin, pieces scattered in black oblivion. "Is there nothing in love, or is there something?", she decided not to give much thought, lest her thought gets influenced by her recent feeling. Truly, the world seems to be a black void without form, during these times. Upon reaching her home, she gave a damn to switching on the lights. Standing before the mirror, she undressed. "What am I lacking?" Almost perfect curves, almost tight breasts, a beautiful feminine figure. Beautiful dense yellow hair. She smiled. She came to the realization that she is not guilty for the recent events, it was Peter, for whom she was too much. Peter has inferiority feeling. He couldn't face up to her. What God does, does for good. Peter did not share his heart out.
"Riza, I have to go."
"Where?"
"As I said, never ask me."
Riza did not take it very well. "You are my hubby-to-be. Can't you share details?"
Hubby-to-be! Sky fell down. "Riz, you know darling, I cannot marry now. I told you."
"Yes, You told me. What I understood is you still need time to enjoy with beautiful girls, and you are still not mature enough to marry."
"Ree, darling, you are the most beautiful girl that I have ever seen."
"Cut the flattering. You have driven your point home." Riza's blood poured all over her face, especially two cheeks. Eyes became wet, tears came down. She hurried to the road, sobbing. Nobody followed. Their roads have taken two different turns. The earth seemed to have lost its vibration. Land under her feet seemed to be no more.
Now, at home, gradually she was coming to sense. She opened the TV set to calm down. In a travel channel Darjeeling was being aired. In a green house cactus was being grown. "I am the flower on cactus", she murmured. She rose up from sofa. She was feeling her uniqueness. "The Little Giant", as he felt about small-hearted Peter, "will soon become the withered flower." A laugh couldn't escape her lips. "Why does this always happen to me?" She was annoyingly perplexed. "There is one curse, it seems, always on me, like the Lady of Shallot. Boys are afraid of me, the sin of being independent-minded. If women are not allowed to be so, why did God made me this way?", she wondered. She felt, "OK, let me do my work, albeit slowly." For even less than a moment, did a light flash? Suddenly she reached from darkness to happiness. "I am the burning flower" she felt. "When the heart goes black, you just require a touch. The touch will transform you."
The travel channel was now airing further south, Kolkata. Festival of Goddess Durga was being shown. A nice picture of fallen Chandramallika was on the screen. Small white flower, lying with one petal towards heaven, creating a long shadow. She went into her evening gown, and looked out of her apartment-window. Almost all windows of the multistoried buildings are alighted. Her life calls. "This is the founding beauty. Much better than drying flowers. No, no, an erect sunflower. Where is my butterfly on sunflower?" She sank on the sofa. She was down again. "I am not even a flower. I am an unfolding bud. No, no, garland he he, attached with a string. If the world cannot connect with me, rather the world is not enough. There still lies the universe." True, nothing or nobody can take away Riza's innocence-filled facial reflections. It is bound to spread all directions.
The honey within flowers.
The doorbell rang.