Sunday, July 8, 2018

It rained flowers


Something light drifted and brushing my cheek fell down in my lap. I took the small white flower gingerly and smelt it. It smelt wonderful nothing like I had ever smelt before. I looked around in astonishment as there were no flower trees around. And then another flower floated down. This one was different. Even as I was admiring the beauty of this one  many flowers began falling. I got up from the roadside bench and looked up at the sky. There were huge clouds looming and something magical from the clouds was happening. IT was raining flowers!!

I looked around in utter amazement. The pavement was covered with flowers of all shapes, colours and sizes. Some familiar like our roses, lilies, jasmine, marigold, chrysanthemum, lotus and many whose names I did not even know but strongly felt that these were flowers not of the earth but of the heavens. For they not just looked exotic but also smelled heavenly.

The air was filled with a delightful perfume and the land with flowers. Everyone around me were as amazed as I was. But soon everyone began picking up the flowers and filling them up in their bags. Every one present there had become a child in their enthusiasm and joy at the magical wonder.

Many rushed in their houses and came back with baskets, bags and anything they could find to fill the flowers with.

I too began filling up my empty grocery bags. Thank God I had not yet reached the store and had paused to catch my breath on the bench at the pavement.

I was already thinking of decorating all the vases with fresh exotic flowers and make bouquets with the remaining ones.  And just as I was thinking of various ways I could use the flowers, it stopped raining.

And there we were all of us with arm full and bag full of flowers still unable to recover from the magical rain.

People now began chatting animatedly about what they were going to do with the flowers. I am sure many would want to sell them to the florists because these were flowers no one had even seen in this side of the town. While those who lived nearby must have collected flowers in tons and wanted to sell them to the perfume maker while someone wanted to export them!!

I looked around and there were no flowers left on the ground. Every single flower was gone. As if there was no flower rain. Why even the stray animals had a taste of the flowers. They were feeding on them.

I walked home wards with my three bags full of flowers. I was sure everyone in the town had collected these flowers.

I know we would talk about this magical rain not for days or months but years together and pass on this amazing story to our future generations.

The flowers stayed fresh for a week. And then later the decomposed flowers were used as compost for our kitchen gardens.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for


Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’



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