"You are as beautiful as a rose", he had said that day and since then her story with roses began. It wasn't very dramatic but she thought of it often twisting and altering some parts and played it in her mind. She was in high school when first she got a rose on Valentine's Day. She threw it in the backwater but again it came back to her after an hour. Roses are desirable but they are thorny. They demand too much of attention. And it so happened that on her next Valentine's Day, when her eyes tried to fight with morning sun rays, she spotted a bunch of four pretty roses beside her on her bed. She liked them, admired them, but they were devoid of fragrance. She wanted to keep them as long as they would stay. But undesirable things move out on their on. So they did too. And ... and there was one day, he asked, " what do you want." She wore a blank expression, not knowing what exactly she wants. "See! this outfit looks fab on you, try it." 'No, thank you.' "No no you have to take something..." 'Alright.' She didn't know why she said that. 'Here! a rose', said she pointing at the female sitting on the footpath arranging her rich flower shop. It was dark enough but she felt his eyes sparkled. He, perhaps appreciated her forthright honesty. While she just didn't want to trouble him. He asked for roses. There were none with long sticks. But there were another with full of fragrance in numbers. She accepted them gratefully. It was her moment. She and roses and night and the moment. He paid the woman a hundred bucks. But roses don't live that long.
Was it only her home where roses didn't blossom? She wondered looking at her neighbour's garden where roses were bounty, all , red, pink , white. But never a rose plant stayed more than a couple of days in her own garden. It made her sick sometimes. It made her desperate. And at worst, it ignited her desire for a rose, a rose that she never saw but existed somewhere, a rose that tested her faith and a rose worth dreaming of... a Blue Rose...That was it.
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