The Woman in the Garden
For us, engrossed as we were in our haphazard life plans, she was as inconsequential as the flowers blooming in the garden. She had been creating masterpieces for past few months at an unhurried pace. She was completely at ease with her paints and paint brushes and flowers around her. She seemed untouched by the noxious ways of the world.
We laboured from sunrise to sunset, chasing our dreams. It was an endless chase. But that did not bother us. We were sure that all the odds and ends that we had succeeded to accumulate were prized rewards and our incessant efforts were worth their while.
One day one of us chose to talk to her.
‘I too chased my dreams….and for years….till one day I realized that the chase was as worthless as the dreams that I chased.’
‘You seem to be fascinated by these flowers? You keep painting flowers?’
‘They talk to me….of their impermanence.’ She smiled. It was a smile as beautiful as the flowers around her.