bed of roses

Today, business is good. I managed to sell roses worth seventy rupees. I wish I did not have to sell them. I am not particularly fond of roses but I adore flowers in general, and roses are no different. Of course, you cannot compare the roses that I sell with those being sold in those fancy shops. I try to make my roses more beautiful though…holding it in a particular way, so that some flaws are best left undiscovered for the customers to see….
By the way, I secretly bought a fairness cream from the panwallah…he was so convincing that I did not have the heart to reject the offer…he was giving me at a discount, that’s what he said. I have hid that cream with a purple cover between the branches of a bush, near that traffic signal. I hope its still there at the end of the day.

The first customer I had today was an old lady, I guess she was pretty lonely…saw it in her sad eyes. She was driving a huge empty car. I did not expect her to stop the car on seeing the red traffic signal even though there were very few cars this early December morning. Still, she stopped… I went upto her with my best smile and thrust the red roses infront of her. I did not want to charge more than the actual amount for my first customer. She did not even ask me the price, looking at the flowers wistfully she bought the whole bunch from my hand! That made my day…This was the best thing that has happened to me till date…I wish I had more flowers in my hand then…

After sometime, the humdrum of everyday life had caught up with the city people. Cars were zooming past with insane speed, though I did make some few extra bucks whenever there was a red traffic signal. The customers were the usual type. Boy buying the rose and shyly handing it to the girl. There were some exceptions, if you can call it that…I saw this girl my age all dressed up in her school uniform in the back seat of her car with her brother, a cute toddler. By the looks of it, I guess the girl was late for school because the mother, who was driving the car was glancing at her watch time and again. Even I have a brother, approximately the same age as that tiny guy who was now looking at me curiously, a shabby girl with knotted dirty hair and hand full of red roses. His attention was so intense that even his mother and sister followed his gaze and suddenly, this guy gave me the warmest dimpled smile…which made the other two in the car laugh out joyously…They looked so happy. The mother called out to me and bought the roses. I think it was out of pity that she bought. After receiving the money, I could still feel her gazing at me from the mirror. Do I pity myself? Definitely…sometimes, I feel I have been wrongly thrust into this cold confused world. But, here I am. And anyways, no one’s perfectly happy right? No matter how rich they maybe and how many fancy cars they may have. You know why I am telling this? I saw this young, seemingly rich married couple quarreling away inside the car at the signal. Married, because the female had a small red dot towards her upper forehead…definitely a sindoor…In fact, the quarrel got so intense that she got off the car and was yelling out madly. They made quite a curious scene, that handsome couple.
Another buyer I remember was this poetic looking shabby guy with unkempt hair and a shawl draped around his thin frame. While haggling over the price with one of the customers in the other car, I realized he was looking at me…curiously, I felt like he was reading me. Anyhow, why leave a potential customer! I went upto him and pleaded him to buy the roses. I did not dare raise the actual price. He made me feel uncomfortable just looking at me and not uttering a single word. But, wonder of wonders, he did buy a rose and bluntly handed me his shawl. What’s going on today? I do not understand.

The stars are definitely shining on me this day. I had seen a truckload of vegetables early morning when there was only a faint hint of daylight. Maybe, that brought me luck today. Whatever, I do not care as long as such goodwill continues on and on and on.
My brother is crying. I think he is hungry. Poor guy, I so love him but cannot always be beside him to take care of him. My parents, they too are somewhere in the streets selling magazines or the usual bric-a-bracs. How I wish that we had a small house, I do not want a huge bungalow. I just need a small house where we are sheltered from weird humans and harsh cold winds or the hot wind and the harsh sunlight on the hot summer days. A small house where I can play with my brother. I wish I could go to school and have loads of friends with whom I can talk about other stuff instead of making survival strategies. How lucky those people are who have a roof on their head and not having to worry when the next meal would come their way...
I know, I gather a lot of pity from those curious eyes around me at the traffic stop. I wish I could be the onlooker and not be a part of this other side of the survival game. But that is just a wishful thinking. Maybe when they look at me, they wish that their life would be as simple and uncomplicated as mine…happily selling the red roses!