Lately I’ve been finding extreme fascination in withering flowers, roses, to be specific. I pluck them off from our garden a little before they are about to shed their petals, and arrange them into an oasis. Eventually they become limp and flaccid and dry out in their dropped posture. They are incredibly fascinating if you take your time to look at them, to really see them, not just a glance. They are untold stories, incomplete, yet they hold a charm far more precious than all the finished stories, all the happy endings. Even though they dry out, they are pretty, worth saving.
I've never understood why people press roses between the pages of a book; there is little beauty in something you are forcing to die. And personally, I find nothing interesting in looking at a rose flower that is pressed until it’s flimsy and lean. It’s a full blown rose that darkens in color, that closes upon itself as it dies and dries that holds my attention. It’s beautiful, still intact. Somehow still living and fragrant. It’s the incomplete story of those roses that fascinates me, and I've always been a sucker for unfinished stories.
-Momina.
Probably because everything with a lost self holds the most attention from us. Nothing that is living, gives us that much of a pleasure to cherish from.
ReplyDeleteAre we lacking something or are we that destructive, remains unquestioned.
I think we are destructive and that's our greatest loss. We tend to find the bad in the good, the sorrow in our happiness. We are always greedy for more, never satisfied.
DeleteYour words are so pretty.
ReplyDeleteI think the whole universe and everything in it is so fascinating because it all hides secrets and unfinished tales.
Thank you so much, Ghadeer!
DeleteI agree, there are things that we'll never know, and there are things that we'll know without their reasons. It is fascinating.
By pressing them against a book they don't wither and die though, and retain some of that beauty. I think if they are withering and dying then that is actually a complete story.
ReplyDeleteI think the opposite.
DeleteBut see, they are not withering and dying, they are withering and drying. Sustaining themselves. Dying her, is shedding it's petals, gone.
You can never say what stories they hold, but we can well imagine. Perhaps that's how our mind works at times !!!
ReplyDeleteExactly, I like the way you think. There are so many perspectives.
DeleteO_O
ReplyDeleteDo you know that you have just unveiled what I EXACTLY feel about roses?
And I DO have this thing about withered roses nd I hate them between the book pages.
I collect petals, they wither and I just look at them. Sometimes I feel they deserve to be heard and given importance more than the fully blossomed one. Everyone loves those, rarely people pay importance to withered one just like everyone can tell a person is happy but rarely people see/feel someone in pain.
Excellent one Momina!
That's it, Ph! I am telling you, we are soul sisters or sth!
DeleteI think their stories are unspoken, and it's up to us to hear them out, to write them down. They are the inspiration, the words encased, we are the outlet.
If we start giving out attention to all these interesting things that has an unseen charm to them, life would be better.
Thank you, so much!
Momina its only you who can make a pressed and wilted flower look so beautiful!
ReplyDeleteI am flattered, Me! Thank you so much!
DeleteSometimes the best stories are the ones that never do find an ending.
ReplyDeleteExactly! I find them much more fascinating.
DeleteDifferent from the usual topic, amazing imagery and best execution. I loved the way you described the unusual imaginations in a very different way. Wonderful!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, Hira! :'D
DeleteI love how you take your time to tell me exactly what you thought about my pieces!
Intriguing thought process i must say :)
ReplyDeleteAnd i totally agree with your lines talking about forced death.After i have read this i may go out and watch the roses in my garden wither :)
Thank you, Alcina.
DeleteWell, I really hope you find them as interesting as I do, unveil the stories within them.
We try and hold on to things for ever. And all the while memories drip like water from cupped hands. We try to preserve what the rose meant to us in between sheets of paper. We get too literal about it. It is a desperate attempt at holding on. We all do it. We all save moments, stop time etc, don't we? One day perhaps we'll come to realise that moments should be enjoyed as you live them and learn to let go once they're over. Perhaps.
ReplyDeleteI love unfinished stories too. But I have this rose that I'm clinging on to, hoping it will revive, hoping furiously that there is an end in sight.
Did I mention I loved this piece and you managed to nudge this long a comment out of me? :)
That's why they say live in the moment, but we are too busy planning the next that we lost that moment! I hope we realize soon that we are running out of time.
ReplyDeleteI hope your rose stays with you, forever bloomed.
I am glad you liked it this much, Su!
I don't why but unfinished stories knaw at me till the very end. I'm just a curious kid I guess. And, not knowing the end kills me inside.
ReplyDeleteBy the way, my first thought was 'pressed flowers' as I read through the first paragraph only to find out that you had written about it in the second one :)
I never think that they are complete, even when they end!
DeleteThey are still cliff endings, waiting to be thought over!