A bottle of Perfume

11 years old when I was, being a little gal, I adored sweet fragrances of perfume. Whenever I visited to nearby marketplace, I wanted one of those spraying bottles, which spread magic in air.

“Didi let’s try that, they smell wonderful.” I said delightedly pointing at the shop.  My elder sister was occupied in searching out for other stuffs and casually refused to accompany me. I too ignored the interest in visiting the shop alone.

After few days, it was the day I as a kid used to wait excitedly for. My birthday, I used to remind my family each day of its arrival. I was joyfully waiting for my surprise gift.  I loved gifts, even the tiniest one. In fact not just in childhood, I still do love them. My sister had helped me get dressed in my favourite pink new fancy Capri and paired pink top. She tied a pony too with my favourite pink band. She had gifted me a sweet card decorated extremely beautifully, along with a little white teddy. I hadn’t missed to hug him umpteenth time that day. My mom had brought blocks game for me, which I admired thankfully.

It was then, when I was occupied in playing with my new blocks, trying to attach them to make a house; my dad entered in my room. I looked up to watch him holding a box. It was a gift wrap. My eyes glint with shine of happiness. I always knew he brings me the best of gifts for me. The ones which might not be pricy but do touch my heart. They attach me strongly with him.

Happily I put my efforts to open the wrapped box. My happiness had no bounds when I saw a big glass box, in which was placed a perfume bottle. It was special. It was jasmine. It was wonderful.

I hugged my dad thanking him as many times I could in one breathe. He had blessed me giving a sweet kiss on my forehead.

Today morning while cleaning my room, when my mom mistakenly broke that bottle, which consumed not much liquid but fragrance of love in it, I felt sad.  Not because I can’t buy more perfume bottles but because that one contains lovely emotions and feelings.

I know it’s totally silly to dedicate this post to a little bottle of perfume, but gifts are not things. They hold the love endured in them, presented by a special hope that someone would be able to understand what we ought to express by gifting those things.

Dad I love you, for always bringing up such special gifts for me. Your gifts brings bundle of joy and happiness to my life, making moments memorable forever!

Poem…

Hey,

I’m here today to share few words, which I titled ‘poem’ for I couldn’t come up with anything else. Though it’s certainly not like any rhythmic poem. But sometimes we just don’t find anything fit to match with our words, our emotions.

I wrote it, as my hand went on with the flow, to express my inner words into these short lines.

I wish I could connect them through it.

 

Time flew by as days passed,

It’s taking away all emotions.

I found you near me,

Yet you lost somewhere.

 

My hands they urged to touch you,

To feel your presence;

Yes, I could hold you;

But I found you stranger.

 

You were the one;

Who taught strength,

Who preached forgiveness,

Who valued relations.

The one that stood in front of me,

Is surely not whom I ever known.

 

Distance brings changes, I heard it.

Thou I realised it closely now.

You formed habits so different.

 

My eyes they weep seeing you again.

I cherished having you back in life,

Solemnly my heart ached,

As I wish to go back in time. 

Everything means you!

 

The pain is yours, but its felt here.

The tears are yours, but eyes are mine.

Two lives, two souls, two hearts

Persisting a very different form;

Not made for each other,

Yet seems connected.

Distance apart from you,

I look at moon trying to find you.

I admire seasons thinking of us.

Your existence, your breathe, your happiness

Is a way of my survival;

Though belonging to someone else,

But indeed love resists.

Feeling can’t be crushed,

I recall those lovely moments we shared.

I adore the bonding we made.

The heart is yours, but emotions for someone else.

The touch is yours, but sensations are of some other.

 

Nothing includes me, though you are everything for me!

 

Regards,

Isha 🙂