Stop to Smell the Roses

It was a usual weekday morning. I woke up with groggy eyes. Chugged down some black coffee to wake my senses up. Heated up the breakfast prepared last night and ate it while watching an episode of my favourite family sitcom. As the clock struck 8, got ready and packed my bag and booked my Uber.

All well within time. And then the Uber driver cancelled.

Thankfully, I was not getting late. I was already downstairs by then and standing on one of the roads of my society, so I just decided to keep walking down the pathway while the next driver arrived.

And then I saw them. Beautiful bunches of petunia flowers planted all along the sides of the road. Bright and vibrant bursts of colour decorating the subtle green of the grass and brown of the soil. The first feeling that evoked within me was a sense of gratitude for our society’s gardeners who work so hard, and are so skilled to create life of such beauty. The second feeling, however, was a mix of sadness and wonder. These flowers were pretty well grown. I was amazed that I had never seen them before even though I walk down that very road everyday while going to work and coming back from it.

The Uber driver was a good five minutes away, so I took out my smartphone, switched on the camera, and immediately started taking photographs of each shade of the petunias. Dark magenta, purple, white- there were all shades of them seen everywhere.

One variety which I found pretty in particular was white in color, with hints of green and golden mixed in it. The edges of the petals looked like frills, reminding me of childhood dresses (we called them frocks) with elaborate frills in them.

And then there was a bright purple variety whose petals were decorated with a deeper purple intricate venation originating from the core of the flower and spreading towards the edges. A similar one in pale pink seemed even more beautiful to me. I don’t know what others think about this color, but for me, it is the aura of a blushing, quiet and gentle soul.

Before the Uber driver rang to tell me he had arrived, I managed to click around ten or twelve photographs that morning . And what a beautiful morning it was indeed. I got five precious moments to admire what beauty the Earth has in store for us. Appreciate colors in a way I had not seen since months. And all this, because an Uber driver cancelled the trip.

To paraphrase and combine two quotes,

“When life gives you a cancelled Uber ride, just stop and smell the roses.”