“To All Those Innocent Flowers Being Crushed”

Flowers are beautiful and being loved unconditionally irrespective of, to which garden they belong. They bring delight no matter what. They are the symbols of hope, innocence and beauty. Their fragrance is something to be longed for. Same is true for the kids too. These small angels cheerily running around, possessing innocent and cute gestures, easily molded like a clay, are the flowers of their parent’s garden and source of their smiles and peace to their hearts.

In this era of gloom and miseries, the freshness of the flowers has been stolen by the monsters of the society. Visibly they might be just stealing their freshness but deep down they are crushing their dreams, passions, snatching their innocence and brutally killing their self esteem and ultimately converting them into precocious widowers who have lost everything even before seeing the world. They are no more kids then. An eight year old might have the cognitive ability of an 18 year old. The guilt remains in them for so long (considering their mistake of what’s done) that barely any night goes peaceful or hardly a dry portion left on the pillow. The laughter of their peers serves as the source of noise pollution only. They start living into their shells hence becoming nothing but introverts. They are easily be recognized in the group being the quietest and hell shy. In the meantime, they learn how to handle themselves, how to appear normal outside when there’s a killing storm inside, how to wake up fresh as they have the most peaceful sleep at night, perfectly depicting themselves as “A lively being with a dead soul”.

That dead soul is ultimately encroached by an old man who neither has any sexual desires, attraction to romance and love (as the peers of their age) nor any kind of such expectations. They either just don’t dream about it or don’t want to and that’s the worst thing and the entire blame is on the bloody monster’s head. They’ve invented various escape routes for them so that they may not be able to feel anything. Meanwhile, their hearts are touching the heights of purity and become soft like butter. They understand others so well that they start welcoming their pains and accumulate them under their wings. But their small pure hearts are crushed when they are misunderstood and blamed for what they haven’t done and that’s because they’re unable to fight for themselves and haven’t spoken to anyone of how were their souls pierced once.

TO THE MONSTER,

Didn’t your heart skip a beat while ruining a flower? Didn’t you think, even for once, what were you doing? Didn’t for once you get a thought of your own flower who may face the same? Didn’t you think of your parent’s honor? Didn’t you get panic attack while looking at the blossoming flower who could never be same again? Didn’t you even for once think of getting punished for this? If no one was watching you…. GOD WAS THERE….! How could you even think of living a peaceful life after this? How could you live without the fear of your own flowers being crushed now? CAN YOU?

TO THE CRUSHED FLOWERS,

You are beautiful with a pure heart and spotless soul. Whatever you have gone through, is not your fault. We are sorry for not understanding you and refusing to give you the shoulder when you needed the most. We are sorry for being unavailable when you wanted to speak up and you didn’t because you will be labelled by our small fragile minds. You must remember one thing, YOU WERE NOT AT FAULT. We stand by you and will be standing for you.