The White Magnolias

The sweet scent of those blooming magnolias was growing stronger and stronger every moment. I was sitting on a stone bench with my face buried in my hands crying, broken hearted and sad. I was choked with tears watching his anger and indifference. I was going to apologise to him. But as I turned my head I heard a bell ringing continuously and on opening my eyes, instead of seeing that familiar park strewn with all sorts of fresh and dry leaves and the patches of multi-hued flowers interrupted by stone benches, what I saw was the outline of my own room. I realized that it was only a dream and to my utter disappointment it was cut short by the alarm clock ringing.

It was a recurring dream, a memory of that place. That serene park of my young days where I spent long hours in the company of my favourite poets, now haunted me throughout my sleep and my waking moments. Those tall shady trees, lichen covered walls and cool canopies kept coming back to my mind, bringing back with them memories of those happy days in harmony with nature and humanity, when a spectre, a mirage of love flashed before my sight and disappeared without a trace leaving me enticed for life.
The dream was strange because she never wanted her life to be like that.

The day I saw the white magnolias for the first time will remain etched in my memory because it was the same day I met him. As always I was engrossed in a book of poems when a passing breeze carried with it a pale ivory white blossom and placed it on the book I was reading. I held the flower closely in my hands to observe it more clearly. I saw it was soft and ivory-hued with a yellow tint on the inside.

As I smelt it a voice beside me told that the name of the flower was white magnolia. I looked up and saw that the owner of the voice to be a person whom I had met several times during my walks and who always passed me by with a friendly smile or a quiet nod. He further informed me that these flowers called chempaka in the native tongue bloomed only in the evenings. Then the surrounding air will be infused with a heavenly fragrance,, the blossom seemed to be the first to fall this season. Thus magnolias inaugurated a friendship that was to spread roots in the depths of my being forever.

Our meetings became frequent and lively with the talk of flowers and books. I found out in the meantime that he was a storehouse of knowledge of various sorts ranging from my favourite poets to philosophy and theology. A precious bond of friendship was being formed between us,. It became a source of delight and inspiration for both of us. Until the days of an irreparable rift threatened the very existence of our goodwill. A quarrel followed that once again left me alone in my favourite place reading books and lamenting the loss of a relationship which would have lasted a lifetime had I been less proud and more careful.

Years went by. We deliberately avoided each other’s society. During this time my life changed. I became just like an aimless yacht, wild and reckless, desperate and in need of a destination and thrown off the path by every galloping gust of wind. He was like an unhealed wound in my heart that bled me to death on every careless touch. But I could not forget the cherished dreams he had given me. ..the wings of hope for an unfulfilled desire of the heart- the urge for a life of bliss together with him! But these dreams were all in vain.

One day my soul pulled me towards this place with a strong force. Thus led by an inner voice, by some unknown instinct I went back to that familiar spot after years of absence, I found to my surprise that nothing had changed much. The chempaka tree by the fountain was in full bloom and there was the faint smell of fresh flowers hovering in the air. I sat there on the stone bench which I had once called mine. I closed my eyes and instantly my mind embarked on the wings of a dream, which an intimate bond of affection had gifted my heart years ago.

A gentle breeze started blowing, rustling the tree branches and scattering the dry fallen leaves everywhere. In the midst of this clamor, I heard a soft footstep on the ground and looking up I saw a familiar face gazing at me tenderly> so nothing has changed much, has it?

All these years I thought of meeting him with an indifferent manner and a courteous smile, But on seeing him hat happened to my earlier decisions. I ran towards him and buried my face on his chest. He put his arms around me and rocked me gently. There was a tranquil silence enveloping the park. Then a gentle breeze blew showering some magnolias on us. The sweet scent of those blooming magnolias was growing stranger and stronger every moment.