Basic Instinct

Rarely do instincts change… be it sipping a drink to dull the moise of chaos to come aware of the surrounding sounds of train honking and a distant dog barkin between intermittent stillness. Or, identifying the approach of yet another dreadful phase…
Just when you thought life has landed you in a place where you barely survive, you surprise yourself. Your resolve becomes boundless. All past hurt fades. Newer blossoms of fragrant memories bloom overlapping the wilted foliage.
The last relationship if that was one really, swept me off my feet quite off guard. Even before I realised what was happening, it was over already. He swore his love for me, rushed into proposing marriage and then developed cold feet. Incidentally, that was the time I used to go out a lot for such excursions. On one such trip, he even accompanied me and then got madly impressed even though I kept wondering, why.
Father would get veggies weekly from local vegetable market. Those were the days… One could take public transport carrying two very heavy bagful of veggies and land safely at home. Walk from the bus stop to home must have been tiring. And still, he would get me a garland of orange marigold and some lose petals of rose and chrysanthemums wrapped up in a big green leaf for my temple at home.
I would eagerly wait for his return the Sundays when he instead of uncle would go to fetch veggies. The market was some 4-5 kms away, some 2-3 stops away. I’m sure there must have been local hawkers and yet, that was every weekend’s drill.
Today happens to be mother’s death anniversary. A harrowing episode of losing my only and last true relationship. What followed thereafter was nightmare… damages trailing to this day. I took a trip to local flower market to get a marigold garland, lose rose and chrysanthemum petals and some sticks of rose, gerbera and chrysanthemums.
When I reached home, I was so overwhelmed with what I had done after 2 years that I forgot the fight I had a couple of hours back. What mattered to me the most was my instinct, my identity and my defining behavior. My grief from years before failed to curb my resolve.
There I was. Reaching home, I washed, had quick food and got into the kitchen. Preparing rice pudding, yellow chickpeas and arranging flowers one by one tending every stick like it was my own child. The process of arranging the flowers whispering to them about the vase they would be put into, pulling the extra twigs out cause they rot in the water they are dipped in.
I love to fix them in the kitchen. The sink comes handy so does kitchen tools to prune and nip. I prepared my drink after 7 hours cooking, flower arranging, and tidying up Ganshu darling.
It’s going to be 4 in the morning. Next couple of hours were the last time I slept carelessly some 25 years back.
Is it a coincidence that I’m did this exactly this year or once again Universe is driving me here!

About Olivia

Corporate worker, textile designer, writer.
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