The Little Yellow Flower

Whenever I feel turbulent inside, hurt and dismayed over caustic comments from fellow travellers on this Earth — family or strangers — astonished again and again over why near and dear ones would be so desensitised — I seek inspiration from nature
Looking at the smiling yellow flowers in my smog filled balcony, I am always surprised at why this beauty continues to smile, how she flourishes despite my neglect, despite the dust and pollution we send her way. And then it hits me, her relationship goes beyond the transitional, the transactional and the peripheral. Her connect is directly with the sun!
As she continues to sway and bend towards the subdued sun, hidden behind the clouds of manmade smoke, the flickering, uncertain, single ray of light that somehow penetrates through that haze of gloom is enough. She is happy to receive that little warmth and share it further within the brethren of red, pink flowers around her.
Holding little encouraging conversations, the flowers rise above the shrivelling stems, dry leaves bursting forth to their full splendour, their limited but transcendental moment in the sun. Content to bask in the glory of a few moments, a limited life span, uncaring of the dryness and neglect around them, they evolve to the stature they were sent for — full potential and growth.
Inspired I am by such indifference towards the disdain of the world around, of the utter bliss attained by self-growth and the deep soul-stirring happiness that comes from beauty of evolution. Even as she grows and starts to shed some of her petals, she holds no grudges, she awaits no service or help from you, she may have grown in your garden and in your pot but you are not her caretaker.
Continuing her onward journey, her gratitude is expressed through the beauty she bestows in your garden and the smile she brings to your lips as you sit in the balcony with your cuppa coffee. But do not mistake her gratitude for servility, she would grow to full bloom wherever she existed.
You see you never were her guardian, her benefactor or even her reason for existence. Her roots lie elsewhere — she celebrates her communion with only one true benefactor — nature itself. A creation of the Universe/the Supremo/God (whichever semantic suits your sensibilities) who would have ensured that that yellow flower bloomed in some part of the world as her soul needed that experience. It was never about your garden, it was always about her evolution. In that process, she just happened to liven your morning with her shining, cheerful presence. Be grateful as she waves you goodbye, happy to dry into non-existence as this part of her journey ends and she sows seeds for a new birth.
