She would never pluck a flower from her garden and her reason was much more amusing. She said the flowers looked beautiful on the plants. I saw all the beautiful flowers from her garden blossom and wilt on the branches they swung and sang in their natural tendencies. And so it went for her love as well. It was never consummated. She never decorated it with any semblance of togetherness or union.

I would never believe her till that day. I happened to open one such corner of my mind and it felt like entering a room locked up for centuries. The flowers inside here were hers and the fragrance was so deep and reverberating that I dropped to knees. I lost myself in that agonizing rapture and understood her love for once. I should have not opened the room, she never meant me to.