The three girls strolled by the modest house, engrossed in chatter. They had been friends since they were toddlers, and their friendship caused envious flutters. Over the years, many others had tried to get into the charmed circle but had never been able to.
Geethika was the tallest and the most vivacious one of them all. When she smiled, pearls gleamed. Her laugh was like the bubbling of a river, soothing yet evocative. She always wore bright colours and it was as if life itself loved her.
Mahek was the studious one, who was always found with her nose in a book, except for when she was with her friends. She was a philosopher and her striking good looks had earned her many admirers, overt and secret.
Finally, there was the petite Suma who was the most eloquent of them all. Her large lustrous eyes spoke volumes and maybe, that is why God had taken away her power to speak. The beauty of her soul shone through and ensconced itself in many hearts.
He watched them from the dim interior of his house as they walked by, three flowers in the early bloom of their youth. His artistic heart bloomed along with them as he took up his paint brushes after they went by and painted like there was no tomorrow. Every day, by noon, the bald patch which served as a canvas outside his house would turn into a green garden where one flower would blossom. This flower changed hues every single day, and as he painted in water colours, it was easy to wash the patch and paint a fresh flower the next day.
“Hello, how are you today, Sandeep?” Mahek smiled at him. Her sharp eyes had seen him at the window despite the dimness.
He nodded with a wide smile. The other two girls also waved at him, as his heart missed a beat. She was so beautiful and the purple she wore today suited her. As the trio went by, many eyes watched them, openly appreciative.
Sandeep quickly mixed his colours, humming a little tune in his heart. The red and the blue blended would create that perfect purple that brought out the colour of her midnight eyes. By noon, the flower had bloomed on the patch, followed by gasps of admiration from the passers-by. Some took pictures of it on their mobiles, others just stood and gazed at it.
“Sandeep, you’ve outdone yourself!” remarked a grizzled gentleman who went by the name Ramanujam. “I could pluck that flower and place it on my Vasantham’s head.”
Sandeep smiled, as he gestured to the older man. His gestures were what made him intelligible to others as he too had been mute from birth. Maybe that is what brought him so much love from those who knew him. That, apart from his amazing artistic skills, of course.
The three girls were also fond of the handsome young man who stood at his window and smiled at them. There was no malice in his open smile, only an exuberance that lit up his face. Geethika would often gesture to him, asking him to come and join them, while the two others stood by, wreathed in smiles. However, he was too shy to do so, and when he saw them, he became more bashful than ever. However, his heart was in his eyes when he looked at one of them, a fact that even she was not aware of. She had no idea that his exquisite flowers were modelled on the colours she wore, an outpouring of love that came straight from deep within his heart.
Every love story has to have a jester on the forefront, of course. Ashok played that part to perfection. A childhood friend of Sandeep’s, Ashok was the one who articulated what Sandeep’s heart dictated. However, even Ashok had not fathomed the intensity of the love that had blossomed in his friend’s heart. If so, he would have spoken eloquently on his behalf.
Ashok’s sister, Yamini, was about to get married to a man whom she did not know at all. When Sandeep heard of this, his eyes flashed fire. “Why?” he gestured. “Shouldn’t Yamini have a chance to choose?”
Ashok shrugged. “You know my parents. They are highly conservative. They want her to be well settled before they die. And in their vocabulary, ‘well-settled’ means ‘wealthy’.” He smiled at his friend. “Yamini seems fine. I don’t think she has ever made a choice in her life.”
Sandeep shook his head in vehemence. How could a person marry someone she was not in love with, his expression suggested. That evening, when the three girls went by, he went towards them. If they were surprised, they did not show it.
“Yamini,” – he pointed towards Ashok, talking in gestures. “His sister. She is marrying a man she does not know.”
Mehak looked at him, a query in her sparkling eyes.
“So what, Sandeep? One day, we will all marry. If we are lucky, we will love the man we marry. If not, we will learn to love the man we marry!”
“Well said, Mehak!” Geethika’s tinkling laugher rang out. “That was very poetic.”
Mahek smiled at Sandeep. “I cannot believe that our bashful young man came to us to actually say this. Do you believe in love, Sandeep?”
He nodded, looking down.
“Do you love anyone?” she persisted.
His face flamed, as he nodded again.
Suma smiled at him as both Mehak and Geethika said in one voice, “Tell us who she is, and we will make sure that she knows.”
Before they could say any more, Sandeep shook his head and disappeared into his house, leaving them guessing.
“Wow, I didn’t know that there was an ardent lover hidden within our shy young man’s heart,” remarked Geethika, as the other two nodded. They made their way to where Ashok stood, talking to an acquaintance.
“Ashok, did you know your friend is in love?” Mehak asked.
“Yes, Mehak, but I have no idea whom he has sheltered within his heart,” came the retort. “His heart does not tell me anything, you see!”
“Very funny! You should have your own comedy show!” scoffed Mehak.
The seasons went by, Sandeep’s flowers bloomed in profusion, each more breathtaking than the other. Till one morning when the news broke!
One of the girls was getting married. She was getting married. Sandeep’s heart broke into smithereens. She did not even know that she dwelt in his heart. Not by a look or gesture had he even shown her his adoration. And now, he was going to lose her.
The day of the wedding dawned. People were dressed in their finery, all set to attend. After all, it wasn’t every day that a wedding came by. For the first time in several years, the patch in front of Sandeep’s house remained bare; no flower bloomed.
As the bride was brought in, a gasp of admiration went around like a breeze billowing across the room. Sandeep’s heart skipped a beat as the music reached a crescendo. How beautiful she looked, in her crimson sari, her hair long and lustrous, studded with fragrant jasmine buds! As she glided in, the lights in the hall were dimmed, and she looked like a goddess. The bridegroom, who sat on stage, looked at Sandeep, who stood by his side, as his best friend.
“Doesn’t she look ethereal?” Ashok whispered.
Sandeep nodded, his throat constricting, as he gazed at Geethika, the love of his life, who was getting married to his best friend, Ashok. The crimson flower that he had not painted on his patch blossomed within his heart, and then he resolutely turned his head away. No more would he gaze on her, for she would be his best friend’s wife.
As he turned away, his eyes encountered another pair of eyes that were looking straight at him, oblivious of the music, the bride or the people milling around. Eyes that revealed a tinge of adoration and bashfulness as they looked at him, eyes in which he could read love, eyes which maybe, sometime in the future he could drown in.
The next day, Sandeep stood at his window, as the two girls went by. She was dressed in yellow and looked resplendent, and as her eyes met his, he was aware of a strange feeling within. His broken heart needed time to mend, but a sense of hope suffused his very being. This time, he knew that he was the one loved, the one who needed to love again. He could feel the fragrance slowly come back into his life, as Mehak went by.
By noon, a lustrous yellow flower had bloomed on the patch, and within his heart.