The tulips are dying, and there is nothing I can do.

This happens every time I buy fresh flowers. I get super depressed to see them wither away with time. They are not meant to grow in my vase. Their life is curtailed the moment they are plucked. But, I develop a relation with my flowers. I watch over them, trim their ends, and change their water, and try to keep them going for as long as possible. In the end, I have to put them away.

I love all kinds of fresh flowers. But I simply adore tulips. They are slender and strong. There is a certain charm in their robust look. They are not delicate like orchids. (I don’t know why the word delicate has a negative connotation in my mind.) I especially love the anatomy of a tulip. It is very simple from the inside. Not convoluted like the much hyped roses. It is also very clean and pure from the inside, unlike some other flowers, like Magnolias. Sigh – I love tulips.

Like my tulips, I also like people to be simple, and not convoluted. Strong from the outside, and pure from the inside. I like that honesty in their eyes, and the purity in their intention. Darn it – I digress. I want to write about tulips, and not humans. But this mind has its preferences. And I don’t decide what to write about. The words keep flowing and I keep chiseling the narrative as it builds itself.

Regardless, I am sad about my tulips. I am also sad about a few other things. Like this weekend that went by so fast. And the rain that just did not want to stop, and the DST that is going to ruin my morning tomorrow. And the fact that I am not in bed despite it being 30 minutes past my bedtime. Grrr…

Goodbye to my tulips. They will be put away tomorrow. 😦