The Red Rose

A huge crowd gathered outside the Ooty five star lodge. Everyone was eagerly waiting for the most prominent poet, Sur Kumar. The people from the hill station of Ooty were so excited. Some of them had brought garlands and some were carrying banners. Everyone wanted to catch a glimpse of the poet. They couldn’t believe that the poet who was recognized not only in India but also worldwide for his beautiful poetry was coming to their small town.

Khushi had been dreaming of this moment when she would be able to catch a glimpse of her favorite poet. His poems instilled in her feelings that she never knew existed. She had read his every poem. There was so much depth and meaning in those poems. For her they were like the bible. She would read them over and over until she had learnt them by heart. She knew one day she would get to meet the person whom she admired so much. When she heard of his coming she felt her heart go wild. She didn’t care how he looked; all she knew was that she wanted to meet him. Today her dreams were going to come true.

As she stood there along with the others with a rose in her hand, she remembered one of his poems.

“Oh! My darling this is a short time of waiting,
Listen to the voices coming,
From the end of love’s journey.”

Once the last words crossed her mind she could make out the outline of a car coming slowly from a distance.

“Oh he is here! Oh he is here.” Cried her heart.

“At last, we are here.” Mumbled Sur Kumar.

Traveling all the way from Mysore to Ooty was indeed a tiresome and bumpy ride. The winding roads were making him a little dizzy, but he wanted to go by road so that he could get to see the beauty of the hills. He surely wasn’t disappointed and the scenic beauty took him by surprise. He had no idea that such a beautiful place existed. Words just seemed to run through his mind. He couldn’t wait to get back to the lodge and pen it down.

As he was nearing the lodge he was even more surprised to see the huge crowd that awaited him there. As he got down from the car, garlands and bouquets were thrown at him. People ran to him for autographs. There were cheers and whistles. There was also a group from the press with cameras and mikes.

“Well…” he thought, “There goes my holiday.”

He had come down to Ooty, to relax and enjoy the peace and the beauty of the place. It was supposed to be a secret vacation. But, god knows, how the press got news of it! Anyway, he gave autographs and smiled at his fans but shunned the press. He had always been camera shy.

Khushi stood there looking stunned. She couldn’t believe she was actually so close to Sur Kumar. He was just a few feet away from her, but she couldn’t move. She felt the ground under her melting. He was so charming and so handsome and her heart seemed to grow out of her chest each time she saw him smiling to his fans. Her mind went blank and she stood staring at him dumbstruck. She came to her senses only after he disappeared into the lodge. It was then that she realized that she had not given him the rose.

Once inside his room, Sur Kumar breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t like crowds and that was the reason he traveled all the way from Mumbai to Ooty. He freshened up and sat down to write a poem about the magnificent mountains, gushing streams, lush pine trees and the scented air of this wonderful place. After some time he fell off to sleep on the desk.

When he woke up it was almost dark.

“Oh my”, he thought, “I must’ve have been really tired.”

He ordered some tea and went up to the window. It was evening and the sky looked like a big juicy peach. The mountains shimmered like emeralds. His gaze then turned to the garden opposite the lodge. There were people strolling, children playing and the newly weds walking hand in hand. Everyone seemed happy and lovely. He thought how carefree and laid back these people seemed, just like those mountains.

He then saw her, sitting on the bench with a forlorn look on her face and a red rose in her hand. She looked so elegant.

“Truly an inspiration for my poems”, he thought.

“I must meet her. I must ask her why she is so sad.” And so saying he put on his shawl.

Khushi couldn’t go home. She had to see him and give him the red rose. She spent the whole evening on the bench thinking about him. As the evening spread its wings, tears rolled down her cheeks.

She thought, “I guess, this the first and the last time that I will get to see him.”

Her heart seemed to break into thousand pieces. She was just about to leave when, she saw him, coming towards her. She caught her breath.

“Oh, its just a dream” and she closed her eyes.

When she opened her eyes again, she saw him standing just in front of her, looking at her. It was then that she realized it was no dream. He was really standing in front of her. She wanted to touch him but instead pinched herself to be sure.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” he asked politely.

She heard his musical voice and felt as though she was floating in air. She heard him but could not make out what he was saying. She felt every inch of her body going light. She gazed at him dreamily and she knew her world was going to change from then on. A shiver passed through her body.

“You seem like you could do with this shawl,” declared Sur Kumar as he put the shawl across her shoulders.

“I’m Sur Kumar”

“Khushi” was all she could say.

“Khushi, you mean happiness. Then why are you sad?”

“Now I’m not.” Smiled Khushi.

“What’s the sorrow you hide behind that smile?”

Her eyes twinkled like stars at his poetic words. She gave him the red rose.

“I’ve been waiting from morning to give you this.”

He had noticed a girl with a rose in the morning, but was surrounded by so many people he didn’t have time to think about her.

“Shall we go for a walk?”

They walked and talked like old friends. She was in her early 20s and he, in his late 40s. A vast age difference, but they shared the same interests, poetry. Khushi never had dreamt of this moment. Here was Sur Kumar walking with her. She felt time stand still, but unfortunately it didn’t. Khushi realized that she was getting late and her parents would be worried.

“When can we meet again?” he asked trying to hide his disappointment. He didn’t want her to go.

“Tomorrow same time.”

He went back to his lodge thrilled at the prospect of meeting her again. He felt like a teenager, who had just had a date with his lover. She was so graceful and mature for her age. He felt he had known her all his life.

Back at the lodge when he looked into the mirror, reality hit him hard on the face. He longed to be young again, carefree and vibrant. He was still handsome, but too old for her. His reflection pierced him like a sharp knife. He covered the mirror with a cloth and went to sleep with mixed feelings, the red rose clutched in his hand.

The next morning when he woke he could not wait for the day to end. He was to meet her tonight and the thought of it made his heart leap with joy. He started to write a poem on her.

“Her face like a flower and her smile like a sprout.
Her beauty has even got the nature under her feet.”

The day was spent with thoughts of her and when night tiptoed he became nervous.

“Will she come?” was the big question on his mind.

She did come with another red rose, which she gave to him. Again as they walked and talked, they came to a small bridge across a river. They stood over the bridge looking into the clear water, the moon shinning over their heads. Khushi could no longer contain herself. It was such a romantic moment and she felt she had to tell him her feelings.

“I love you”, she blurted, looking him straight in the eyes.

He was taken aback. How beautiful she looked then. He wanted to tell her that he loved her too, but again he thought about his age.

“You are so young Khushi. What do you know about love?”

“Love is the desire to give up everything for the person you love.” was her reply.

“Including your life?” he questioned.

She nodded. “Well then, if I ask you to jump into that river would you do that?” he asked her teasingly.

She looked at him in such a way he felt his heart melting. She came close and planted a passionate kiss on his lips. He kissed her back with the same passion. She broke the kiss and looked at him again.

“Oh no” he thought.

But before he could stop her Khushi leaped over the bridge and jumped headlong into the river. He called out to her, but it was too late. He stood there looking bewildered. The river was very cold and deep and there was no way anyone could come up alive. He felt as though someone had stabbed him in his heart. He screamed her name again and again, but Khushi was gone.

He stumbled back to the lodge and went up to his room.

The next morning, Sur Kumar was found dead, sitting in front of cloth-covered mirror, and a red rose in his right hand.