Please note that this story is purely a work of fiction and any resemblance to any event and/or person living and/or dead is purely coincidental. We do not intend on offending any race, religion or community.
”And now,” spoke Mrs. Anupriya, the art teacher, “I welcome you all. Thank you so much for choosing your love for art.”
Everybody smiled and sat patiently on the soft green grass as the dried leaves falling from the trees graced the beautiful setting.
”As you can see,” continued the teacher, “that this place is filled with colours and life, and there are so many things which can help you with your creativity. And I am also here to help you bloom and prosper. So now, I want you to have a look around and choose for yourself that one thing which pleases you the most.”
The group soon began to whisper. They started talking and discussing with each other.
”Well now,” said the teacher, “there is no need to discuss anything. This is your time for quiet contemplation and not discussion.”
The group fell silent. They all began looking around. Ragini looked at Palak. She was looking at a pink flower underneath the huge tree and smiling.
”So now,” said the teacher, “I will ask each one of you about your choice and also what is it that you love most about your choice and why do you think that what you chose deserves to be brought to creative expression. And the most beautiful choice is what we shall focus on today.”
”Welcome Madam, how may I help you?”
Mrs. Aradhana was greeting the visitor, a middle aged woman, who had just stepped in.
”I am Ms. Anita, Manya’s cousin. I am here to spend the week with her. Where is she?”
Her tone was sharp and bitter. She was looking around angrily as if she was expecting a grand welcome.
”Ms. Manya shall arrive late tonight. She is busy at one of her events. Why don’t you take a seat? I will quickly get the guest room cleaned up.”
”That pink rose,” spoke Ragini on her turn, “is something I can’t stop looking at. Its the most creative thing I can see here. The soft pink petals remind me of the gentleness of my own heart and the dark pink inner core of this flower depicts the deep colourful love within me. The thorns that are gracing this wonderful flower remind me of my guardian angels protecting me and its roots which are rooted firmly in the soil make me aware of my connection to mother earth.”
The group listened in silence as if they had been struck by a beautiful spell. Palak gazed at the flower in amazement as her heart tried to soak up some of the words. Everyone could feel a rush of warmth in their hearts.