Have we ever give it a thought, what would be the next divine creation besides woman?
Perhaps flowers.
The colors, the petals and the smell are very unique from one flower to another, even when they come from the same family.
Flowers have always been my best friend. I was probably 3 or 4 years old when I had my first memory of plucking grandma’s jasmine flowers daily. Grandma has a few jasmine flowers in her garden and for as long as I remember, the flowers bloom almost every day.
My first thought when I wake up in the morning will be, “I remember the jasmine buds from yesterday, has it bloom yet?”
Growing up and even now, I always make sure to have fresh flowers in the house. And as my daily calendar is Hijrah Calendar (also known as Lunar Calendar), fresh flowers become more important as the new moon and full moon approaching every month. This is an eventful occasion for me.
The happiness, the excitement of waiting for full moon at night is like magic. It keeps me going through my days with joy.
Inevitably, it is natural for me to see flowers around. In feeding my curiosity, I took flower arrangement classes in my 20s, to learn about flower arrangement and which vase fits which type of flowers. The process of choosing and buying it from the flowers market, to having a lot of different type of vase collection over the years.
Flowers are subdued and underrated. They are there whether or not we recognize, appreciate and acknowledge them. Flowers strive to live, slowly takes their time to grow petite buds and naturally bloom when its ready. It will go through its own process to strive that beauty with or without appreciation of others. Flowers blooms even more after the rain, under the sun. They love bees and bees love them even more. Wild flowers especially grew sporadic and wildly striving. It wilts upon serving its purpose and responsibilities.
Every flower bloom at its own time. No chasing. Not competing. No running away.
As for me, every time I hold these flowers whether I am about to arrange it or just sitting down admiring it, I could feel it’s warmth, smiling back at me, like my grandma watching me grinning holding jasmine’s I plucked from her garden.
Happiness. Joy. Content.