The Garland Of Orange Flowers

 

“But… I always purchase from you! You should have reserved some stock for me!” Ram exclaimed in dismay.

The flower-vendor sent him an apologetic look. “It is festival-season, Sir. You know how many people buy flowers during this time.”

She specifically asked for a garland of orange-coloured flowers… where will I get them now?? Ram thought in despair.

“Do you know any other flower-vendor from whom I can get the garland?” Ram asked the lady.

“You may want to check at the flower market in the town, Sir.” The lady said and looked around as she saw a bus approaching the nearby stand. “In fact, that bus will drop you right at the entrance of the market.”

Ram thanked her and ran towards the bus. He hopped in just when the bus was about to leave. He sighed in relief.

The seats were all taken so he had to stand.  “The flower market.” He said to the conductor and handed him a ten-rupee note. The conductor smiled and said. “It is 18 kms from here, Sir. One-way ride costs Rs.40.”

I will be shelling out 80 rupees to buy a garland of 20 rupees!? Ram thought in despair and handed the balance amount to the conductor. After standing for more than twenty minutes, he finally got a seat.

“Please let me know when the stop for the flower market comes.” Ram said to the passenger sitting next to him. The old man smiled and said. “It will take at least 40 minutes to reach the stop. You have lot of time.”

“It is that far!?” Ram exclaimed and leaned back on his seat with a tired sigh. “I hope I am able to come back by evening. I need to bring a garland of orange flowers matching her Kanjivaram saree, otherwise I am done for.”

The old man chuckled. “Will she throw a tantrum?”

“No, even worse. Only stony silence will greet me for days. Tantrum seems comparatively easier to deal with. Her silence kills me.” Ram said, a vulnerable expression on his face. The old man patted his arm comfortingly, looking thoroughly amused.

Ram was now used to people mocking him for openly showing his adoration. He did not mind, neither did he try to explain anything. His adoration was his pride that he carried with him.

Finally, the bus halted at the flower market. Ram got down, only to be greeted by a sudden downpour. He shook his head and muttered. “It is not even the rainy season! Today the Universe is all out to test me.”

Braving the heavy downpour, he stepped inside the flower market. For a moment, he felt overwhelmed with the sight and the aroma of just about every type of flower he could imagine. The vendors were hastily trying to cover the flowers and the garlands with tarpaulin sheets to protect them from the rains.

Ram passed from one vendor after another but nowhere did he come across a garland of orange flowers. Feeling more and more frustrated with the passing of every minute, Ram almost gave up when he looked at a stall containing many baskets of flowers. And from one of the baskets, orange colour flashed at him!

Ram rushed towards the stall in elation. “Give me a garland of the orange flowers worth Rs.20!” He said to the vendor. He watched as the lady took out the orange flowers, weighed them and started preparing a garland of them. Ram was soaking wet but nothing mattered to him except for the garland being woven in front of him. After paying for the garland, Ram rushed off, holding the bag of the garland very close to his chest and trying his best to not to get it wet.

He decided to hire an auto to go back to his place. The auto-driver quoted the fare as Rs.250. Ram laughed and got inside the auto. Nothing could dim his happiness now.

He had just about enough time to reach home and have a warm bath. It was evening by the time he went to the temple. He waited outside the sanctum sanctorum along with the other devotees, the garland held securely in a thali in his arms.

As the doors of the sanctum opened, Ram forgot to breathe. For there She was, the Devi, decked in a beautiful orange-coloured Kanjivaram saree, just like She had told him last Friday. In a trance, Ram moved along with the line of devotees. When he reached the priest, he presented the garland to him.

“Ah, Ram, how do you do this? You always bring matching garlands for the Devi. It is as if She tells you what she would be wearing!!” The priest chuckled and gently put the garland over the deity of the Devi.

Like it always happened for Ram, the world around him dissolved and the Devi came to life in front of his eyes, smiling at him benignly.

“Did you like the garland, Ma?” His soul asked the Devi.

“It is beautiful, child. You went to great lengths to get this!” The Devi said, smiling at him naughtily.

“It was You, wasn’t it? The unavailability of the garland at the regular vendor, the lengthy bus ride, the rainfall, the exorbitantly-priced auto-fare… You like to test me.” Ram’s soul chided Her gently.

“I did not do anything!” The Devi said coyly. Then She laughed in sheer happiness. Ram felt like all the wind-chimes in the world had broken out in a rhythm at the same time.

“You know me. I can suffer anything except for silence from You. If You don’t talk to me, then who will, Ma?”

The Devi smiled at him with so much affection that Ram’s eyes teared up. “You are my child. How can I not talk to you?? Do not leave the temple without eating the Prasad. I have arranged for your favourite today. It is kesari.”

As Ram bowed his head in sheer devotion and gratitude, he felt a cool breeze wrap around him. All the tiredness of the day went away. He felt refreshed and invigorated. He knew it was the healing power of the Devi.

“Next Friday, I want jasmine flowers. I will be wearing white Saree.” The Devi told him and he could hear the amusement and naughtiness in Her words.

“As you wish, Ma.” He said.

“Do not forget, you are loved and cared for!” The Devi said these parting words and suddenly, Ram felt the world shift around him as the devotees chanted and bells rang out in the temple. The Devi was now a deity once again. He bowed and prostrated in front of Her.

“Here, this is for you.” The priest presented a large paper-plate containing kesari. Ram smiled and accepted it.

Well, jasmine flowers should not be hard to find… Ram thought in amusement as he sat in his favourite corner inside the temple and relished the Kesari.