A White Rose and An Illusion…( 2 min read)

He always said our relationship was like a white rose. It had no color; painting it red would be like stepping over the line that kept our worlds separated. I said nothing. But the slight flinch on his face caught my eyes. What was it?

I listened quietly as he rambled on about his degrees and certificates, achievements and awards. I tried in vain to find something about me that could impress him. Apparently I was the most trite person on earth with practically no accomplishment in life. Did that make me undeserving of love?

Some years passed. I still hoped the pale rose would turn red someday. In his eyes, I saw a flare that scintillated every time he looked at me. But in the next moment it would wane. Did he mean to put out that fire? But that faint light was my only hope.

One day he called me, his voice gleaming with joy. It soothed my insides. But I knew it was the harbinger of knives aimed at my heart. He was about to leave country. A promising career awaited him far beyond the limits of my knowledge.

‘Shall we meet again?’ I asked in vain hope.

He didn’t answer. And in the blink of an eye he was gone.

With that our lives were sliced apart. I realized there was no space for a dingy, white rose in his life. I ripped its petals off and tossed them away. But did they really leave me? Every time I closed my eyes, the scintillating flame of his eyes blinded my vision.

A year passed. I realised it was time I went back to living my old, mundane life. But how could a life that had experienced true love, shattering heartbreak, excruciating pain and deep humiliation be monotonous anymore? My life had transitioned into a gem that now had its own spark. It had…

Wait. Before I could realise more, one fine afternoon, a bouquet of white roses reached my house. A small note popped out; it said – I’m coming back to you.

My heart skipped a beat. He had chosen me over his dreams. All I had ever wished for was right before my eyes. I smiled and looked at the white roses. Were they about to be coloured red? That question suddenly washed the smile off my lips. There must be a reason why they were left uncoloured by the almighty. If this person never had courage to accept my simple life, then he had no right to the one which was now anything but normal.

Trailing my hands over the flowers, I closed my eyes. For the first time in years, I had a clear vision of my life. It was not blinded by an illusion anymore.


Written by Chirasree Bose

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