The Quiet Realization

Friends, here is a story of realization slipping in quietly. Enjoy!

Runu was smiling.

“Ah, the perfume from this white handkerchief with red polka dots smells so good. Isn’t it?” exclaimed this seven-year-old to her best friend, Natasha, in their classroom during recess. And the latter nodded her head. If truth be told, it was 98% envy and 2% appreciation.

Runu had just resumed school after spending four happy days at her granny’s place at Chandan Nagar. The joyous occasion was the marriage of her uncle and almost all the members of this large family had assembled. And at the gathering, each seemed to have competed in an unofficial competition in decking themselves in the best of finery. This included the little Runu, too.

After dressing herself up in a white and gold silk outfit, she had managed to cajole a few drops of expensive perfume from Mimi didi. Some of it she had sprinkled on her dress, and the rest she had poured into her favourite handkerchief. Her chic elder sister had joined the celebrations from Delhi. One could rely on Mimi didi for being the last word in fashion.

Well, now Runu’s family was back in their Southern Avenue residence in Kolkata. After four days of bustle, everyone was glad to be back in the cosy lime-washed bungalow surrounded by a neat garden. The sunflowers, smiling under the May sun, were especially welcoming.

As they returned in their pale blue Fiat with tinted windows, she was somewhat sad that people outside the car could not “see” her imported, perfume-laden handkerchief. Well, she compensated for that by showing it to her friends, like Natasha at school. They were so envious, “Ah, how well our Runu manages to get such smart things!”

When she came back from school in the afternoon, she reluctantly placed her handkerchief in the wash basket. If she had her way, she would have kept it for a minimum of a week more. But then, her mom, Meera, was always strict about the rules of hygiene.

The next morning, Runu had her meal and then went out to the clothesline to pick up the washed handkerchief and socks for her school. This was a habit drilled into her by Meera.

Now, the pale blue socks were very much there where they ought to have been. But despite searching the clothesline for her handkerchief from one end to the other, she could not locate it. Only after extra careful searching all around could she manage to trace it.

“Uff, there it is,” she exclaimed as she noticed its white corner jutting out from a dense bush of ‘Raat ki rani,’ the flowers that bloom in profusion during the night. “The maid must have used a loose clip, and so the wind would have swept it away from the clothesline straight into the bush,” reasoned the child.

As the girl rescued her handkerchief from the bush, she suddenly stopped in her tracks. What’s this? From where was this delicate scent coming into her fussy nose?

“Ohh! It is wafting from this handkerchief. But how is that possible?” But the whiff of scent was unmistakable. “Ah, yes! The cloth must have absorbed the fragrance from the flowers during the night," realised the girl.

The girl stood still.

She was brooding over the fact that within a span of a few days, she had the opportunity of smelling the branded perfume from a bottle, and then the fragrance of Mother Nature in quick succession.

And guess what?

As she confessed to Natasha later that day, “I would prefer natural fragrance any day. After all, I can have it anytime I want. And I do not have to beg anyone for it.”

The latter nodded her head. Again. This time, it was 98% agreement and 2% mixed emotions from an avid nature lover.