Blossom and Blues. -Short Story
Once upon a time there was a beautiful fairy. She loved flowers and was very often seen flying from one flower to another, inhaling their sweet scents and memorizing their colors.
She had a very special power. Whenever she inhales the scent of a flower, she would know that with which exact emotion or feeling was that flower grown. That way she would look deep into the souls of the people responsible for growing flowers.
The power brought her immense happiness, but at the same time it was depressing as well . Some flowers that she sniffed were filled with such jubilation that the fairy would dance and sing for months from one garden to another, sleeping blissfully at night. She treasured such days because sniffing happiness from a flower was very rare. She always wondered why, but never was able to know.
This happiness from flowers was very vital for the fairy. It gave sparkle and energy to her wings. Whenever she sniffed a happy flower, grown by a happy and satisfied soul, her wings sparkled with great intensity, engulfing her whole body into a shiny golden glow.
However, some flowers contain such grief that the fairy would cry with sadness making her surroundings freeze and shake with agonized sobs.
Grief was not good for her. When she was sad, her wings looses all their luster and turns coal black from misery. Such miserable days were very common. Such nights would make her writhe in pain, all night long.
One day, she was flying when a newly grown garden with very colorful flowers caught her eyes. She fluttered down and sat on its soft green grass. Many beautiful little sparrows were chirping there and hundreds of butterflies were also present, probably enjoying the beauty. The whole garden was picturesque and very mesmerizing. The fairy was completely dazzled.
Recovering herself from the hypnotizing beauty of the garden, she noticed a very strange thing. All the flowers were yellow in color. They were so brightly yellow that even looking at them was making the fairy smile in contentment and joy. She was sure that inhaling those will make her totally ecstatic and happy for a very very long time.
She bent down, sniffed and froze " How could that be? ", the fairy was filled with sadness so strong that all the yellow flowers in the garden turned cold blue. She started shivering because of the coldness of the grief. She wanted to cry, howl with pain and hurt that she just sniffed.
She wanted to know that how can a living creature be so vile to hurt someone like that. The fairy, crying, sniffed some more flowers of now the blue garden, every flower has the same sadness and hopelessness, stuffed inside its beauty.
" How could that be possible? " the fairy thought, still crying...her tears now turning into ice and making the grass go white.
How could that be possible— the flowers which looked so merry and gay were filled with such sadness and sorrow? She looked around and the sight of cold blue flowers jarred her up some more. Her thoughts were now all tangled up and wild. She was being not able to digest that how a soul could carry such misery within it.
She closed her eyes and pictured the grower's/gardener's soul. What she saw comforted her agitated thoughts, a little. A being happy and gay...always whistling and singing...smiling and laughing, but it is not always what we see. The being's soul was largely affected, the fairy saw, it was exactly like the flowers. The being was exactly like the flowers— joyous from outside and wilting from inside.
The fairy opened her eyes, the garden surrounding her was all frozen, the flowers, the leaves, the grass. Butterflies were no longer there, birds were not chirping anymore, all was now quite and cold, the fairy observed. Her heart was also damp now, just like a night's rain, her cheeks had lines of ice now, which were the tears, turned into ice because of the grief's strength of the gardeners's soul.
The fairy stood up, she wanted to run far away from the saddest garden and its blue flowers, she fluttered her frozen dull wings, and flew away. Far away from the miserable, crystallized garden.
From then, the fairy never judged the flowers from merely their color. Infact, she was very reluctant to sniff the most brightly colored flowers because now she knew that the brightest of flowers can bear a huge mount of misery and the dullest of flowers can flood you with happiness.