Yasmeen Aftab Ali
‘Flowers… are a proud assertion that a ray of beauty outvalues all the utilities of the world.’ Ralph Waldo Emerson
One of the most fond memories of my maternal grandmother is weaving the small and beautifully smelling ‘motia’ flowers in a long rope to wind around her hair bun or as a bracelet for her arm. The soft but long staying smell will always remind me of my childhood. My mother inherited the love for this particular flower. Our home had many bushes of motia flower. Every morning, she would take delicate china bowls and fill it with the flowers from the backyard placing a bowl in every room. The love of motia passed down to the third generation ; me. Rambling creepers of the flower climb the artfully placed arches outside my bedroom window, filling the senses with such beauty and wonderful smell. Like my mother, I too, fill a bowl with them,early morning and put it on the dressing table. What joy it brings! What memories!
Then there is the beautiful intricately worked silver urn. About six inches tall. One of the pieces that came to me as a legacy from my paternal grandfather. I have spent many hours enjoying its craftsmanship. The hand made etched tree leaves, the delicate flowers and intertwining branches. A masterpiece indeed. When the season for the ‘nargis’ flower is here, it is filled with a fresh daily supply.The lovely, delicate stems, the frankly open white petals, the proud crown of gold. What grace. What beauty. Placed next to a pile of unread books on a shelf, balm for the eyes! Flowers always have the power to chase away my blues. Dissipate depression.
Mother Teresa was right when she said, “We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature – trees, flowers, grass- grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence… We need silence to be able to touch souls.”