By Ishita Bagchi
I love flowers.
I really do.
Lilies,
Roses,
Sunflowers,
Orchids,
Chrysanthemums.
I love them all.
But I pressured myself not to love them for the longest time.
I pressured myself to pretend I was too cool to be fond of them.
Because the first time I said I loved flowers
And how sweet it would be to receive them from someone,
My bullies told me girls like me shouldn’t be fond of flowers.
They said,
“Girls like me shouldn’t be dreaming of love letters and flowers.
Girls like me, who are not pretty, don’t receive flowers.”
But the rebel in me wanted to shut them up.
The voice in me kept screaming internally,
“So what if no one gives me flowers?
I will buy them for myself.
So what if no one understands my wishes?
I will fulfill them on my own.”
But I couldn’t say it out loud.
I couldn’t muster the courage to shut them up.
All that I could manage was a meek reply saying,
“I would just buy those.”
“Ah! What a pity,” they mocked.
“Well, that’s what girls like you do.
Covering up your wishes with the facade of self-love,”
And once again, my bullies won, I thought.
But years later,
When I passed by a flower shop,
I stopped by to look at those fresh water-sprinkled flowers waiting to be packed.
I immediately picked one
And realized how much I loved them.
That day,
I bought one for myself,
Breaking one shackle at a time.
I felt free.
I felt that after so many years,
Even without trying,
I could finally find my old love for flowers coming back,
One day at a time.
And that, my friends, is how I fell in love with flowers,
All over again.