Language of Flowers

Part 1

Chapter 1

It was raining heavily, late in the afternoon. The sky was almost dark. Driving through a hilly road was really challenging at that time. But Xian had to reach there. He had to see the person for the very last time. He could not be late. He tried to call someone, but the battery of his phone was dead. He took a sharp left turn luckily saving the car from falling in to the deep gorge. Gripping the steering more tightly he took a deep breath and drove straight. The downpour became stormy and denser. Suddenly the car stopped. He tried to start the engine a couple of times, but it was standstill. He could not understand what was happening anymore. He did not have time to waste. Xian got off the car and started running. He was running in the rain, all drenched and trembling. He was running and running....then he found himself in front of the cemetery. He dragged himself towards a grave. Nobody was there except some fresh flowers. His legs gave in and he collapsed to his knees. He was howling and mumbling "Sorry, I could not make it on time". He was feeling suffocating.

Xian woke up panting and sweating. He looked around to be found himself on his bed in a dim blue light. It was a nightmare! But it was so vivid and real. He was scared, scared of losing someone close to his heart, someone very special and dear to him. To his surprise he touched his wet cheeks. He was crying in his dream. He was crying for real. His gaze fell upon the table clock. It's 3:45 A.M. in the morning. There was still time to the day break. He looked out of the window absentmindedly. His soul was deeply hurt. "What was that? Why today"? Today is a very important day in his life. It is the inauguration of his flower shop, the day of fulfilment of his little wish. After completing his graduation in fine arts he worked in a company for few years as a designer. Though his colleagues were good to him and the salary was also not bad but his heart was not contented there. He always wanted to do something that would make people happy. He loves to see the smile on people's faces. He believes the language of flowers can speak more than words to convey emotions and it's easier with the gifts of flowers to connect to the heart. So, he insisted to have his own flower shop. It was not easy to convince his parents and siblings who were always overprotective of him, but as the youngest member of the family he also got a lot of pampering and so to take the full advantage, at times, he could be stubborn to do whatever his heart is pleased with. Today onwards he is going to start a new chapter of his life, so he needs to see the sunrise today. He got off the bed and went to the shower.

After being freshened up he made himself a cup of coffee. Everybody was sleeping, so it was all quiet in the house. Sipping his morning coffee he took the stairs to the rooftop while listening to a calming music in his headphone. This part of the day is his favourite when the world is tranquil and ready to wake up with a new hope. He can think afresh. The positive energy of the rising sun got his spirit up. Xian was determined to make it a memorable day. While coming down he met his mother. "Good Morning Mom", he greeted with a smile.

"Good Morning Xian. What do you want for breakfast?"

"Anything you cook is delicious, Mom", he hurried to his room. Jotting down all the necessary things for the last time and check listing everything the decorations, guests, brochures, music and the flowers, last but not the least the snacks, he was a bit tensed. To make himself distracted he started scrolling his mobile while suddenly it rang up flashing an unknown number. On first thought he decided not to take the call as he was not in a mood to entertain some stranger; besides, his circle of family and friends was much closed and he got all their contact numbers as well as his work related numbers saved in his mobile phone. So, it could not be any important call. Leaving his mobile on the bed he was about to go out of the room while it was continuously ringing making him a bit annoyed. "Yes?" Xian said answering the call and he heard a curt reply, "The burial is at 2:30. Be there on time." He did not have any time to ask any question or reply back as the call was abruptly cut. He was baffled. Biting a corner of his lower lip with his teeth he thought for a moment. Though it was a sad news, but it was not for him; a misdialed call. He dialed his best friend Ron, who is a photographer by profession. After two rings Ron picked up the call, "Hey buddy, Good Morning."