WHICH FLOWER IS THE BEST

- Which flower is the best ....                        My blog: Story 

 

 

This story is from a village in India. Think of any village name. It is a matter of long ago when a procession came in the village. Like always on the occasion of marriage, the whole village was garnering welcome to Barat. There were swinging doors at the door. Ashoka's green screaming paan with yellow flowers of marigold were scattered in the air by screams.

All the big and small people of the village were hovering near the courtyard of the girl dressed in clean wash or wearing new clothes. In the bed in front of the hallway, Tulsi Mogar was delightful among the bunches of flowers. The white house was glowing amid the bright rays of the sun. There was a lot of crowd inside. The men wore red and pink saffron ties. Sometimes he smiled awe and sometimes smiled at his happy posture.

 

The women were smiling in colorful silk saris. His talk was being spread in every direction, fluctuating like tides between the tinkling of bangles and the tinkling of the pilings.

 

 The girls were chirping like ghagra choli or lehengas.

 

The procession arrived. Lal Chunari-covered doll, newlyweds Varmala, clutched in the hands between her two friends. The work of beautiful stars and golden goats was glowing on her fine skull. The dot on the forehead was glowing. The girl raised her hands and put on the neck of the varmala bridesmaid with red roses and white Nargis flowers. The procession standing with the bride and groom expressed their happiness by clapping. After this, the ritual of meeting was performed among the relatives of both the parties. All the wedding activities in the marriage pavilion began to be completed methodically. 

 

The feast started after marriage. 

 

What to say about the wedding meal Mathri-Kachori, Pudi-Ghevar-Laddu-Imarti-Jalebi-Gulab-Jamun, Vegetables-Dal-Rice-Raita were all being served alternately. Everyone dined and dined.

 

Now the betel nut cloves cardamom also came and people started lingering after eating delicious. Guests and hosts were all satisfied. Many guests finished the meal and once again started saying congratulations and went away from the wedding pavilion towards their homes. Relatives and relatives who were from the house reached the open square inside the house.

 

Carpets and sheets were laid on the floor in the square. Large pillows were also placed. Many people settled there and started resting. Gossip started. Women also started laughing. Discussions broke out. The whole chowk got up. The groom was also seated with his friends along with the barais. Dulhania was sitting there with some shyness surrounded by her friends. The method of marriage was completed safely. 

 

The feast was also settled. People were talking such things as who came in the Lagnotsav and who could not come.

The eldest elders of the house strangled and said, "An .... huh ... Listen to me ..." Everyone stared at Dadaji's talented face with ferocity. Grandpa was calm. Gauravarna's face was covered with big mustache with ripe hair. He retired from the senior post of the Indian Army. 

 

Suddenly rooted but in a very moderate voice, he said, "My family is gathered here.   

I am extremely happy when my granddaughter's marriage methods are complete. I bless the bridegroom. >  

Neither ... Do not stand up, children keep sitting. Steps are touched. Be seated ... leisurely. ''>  

 Saying so, with the help of hands, he ordered the groom to sit in his place.   

Which was followed Grandpa's talk continued.

 

"So what was I saying ...?" Yes, I remembered everyone, congratulations and thanks! You all worked hard and only then was such a beautiful festival! well done!! "Everyone smiled." 

 

"Okay, ask a small question today?" '' 

 

"Yes, ask grandpa, no." '' The collective voices began to rise from all sides.

 

 "Yes yes ask Daddu ...." Everyone laughed after hearing the small voice of little Atul. Grandpa shook hands and called everyone to be calm. Then everything was quiet.

Grandpa asked in his moderate and sweet voice, "Tell me which flower is the best?" "

 

Hearing the question, all the vulgarities smiled in surprise. Hey! What has happened to Grandpa today? What kind of question on this occasion? But Grandpa's dominance was such that nobody automatically said anything. Everyone started thinking of the answer to the question. Women also started thinking. Grandpa now smiled a little. 

 

Said, "Hey brother, I am not asking any deep serious questions. It is a simple little question. You should tell all the answers that come out of your mind. There is nothing like thinking so much. "

 

 All the people started smiling unmindful.

Little uncle, who was very talkative, immediately said, "Baba, I would call Gulab only the best."

"Grandpa said," Come on, new is right, rose is right .... So your choice is rose flower. … Someone else ”he asked further. Now the name of a flower started being heard from every direction. Someone called out, "Daddu Sunflower .... That is such a big flower, and the direction the sunflower turns in the direction in which the sun turns." Grandpa nodded and smiled.

 

 Sister-in-law said, "Grandpa Mogra! Whom I wear on my shoe.

 

 "Choti aunty said," Juhi's gajra gives more fragrance than Ari Mogre. So I would say that Juhi flower is the best. ''

 

Big aunt said something thinking, "Why would Kevada be called a flower only?" If I keep it in worship in front of Ganesha, then it is the best. " 

 

Amma, who was the mother of the bride, said, "Lotus!" Laxmi Maiya on whom I am seated, I would call that lotus flower the best… among all. " 

 

Grandpa was now smiling openly. Everyone's suggestions were also being heard.

 

Everyone was happy to hear about the qualities of different flowers and their importance.

 

Grandpa still did not call any flower superior. Now the names of exotic flowers started coming from country flowers. 

 

Lily, Lavander, Tulip, Carnation, Aster et cetera et cetera. Slowly everyone's voices started getting dim. 

 

Grandpa eyes were thinking something. Then everyone became silent. The atmosphere became calm.

 

"Dadu ...." raised a fine tone. This was the melodious voice of the new bride. All relatives started looking at the newlyweds. She was ashamed. Eyes lowered, she became ashamed. 

 

Dadu was alert. Said, "Don't be shy, daughter." Say which flower you like. Say son… "

 

    Giving some courage to the loving affection soaked by Grandpa's motherhood, the girl started saying sweetly, "Dadu is the best flower of cotton." '' 

 

''What did you say? "Somebody got surprised and said!" "Cotton flower? Cotton flower? Karpasha? How?" 

 

Kanya said, "Taking a cotton flower, I woven a thread from it." Tied my rakhi on my Veerji's hand. Put the part that was left on your palm, and butt it made a wick for the lamp. After lighting the flame of the lamp, I placed it in the service of God. Worshiped the lord. Wearing a cotton swab, this flower may not have color, form, and smell, but there are so many qualities hidden in its pure cleanliness.

 

 Cotton clothes become a cover for the shame of us humans, so that is the best. '' 

 

Upon hearing the suggestion of the newly-married girl, Dadaji proceeded with joy, and took his granddaughter from her chest.

 

"My little daughter!" Yes your answer is the best and your choice too. You are telling the truth! Cotton is such a useful flower. Deepak is a man whose light sees the whole world. But the cotton keeps on burning with a flame in a lamp made of sesame and sesame. She is a wick woman. ''

 

Dadu then hugs Bitiya with love. 

 

Consecrating her with a blessing of the holy Ganges from her throat, as a blessing, Grandpa stood in tears, saying "My daughter, my naive daughter".

 Vibhor Dadu's dearness forgot everything for a moment with the gesture of wailing tears. The whole crowd was watching this His Holiness scene. Everyone's eyes filled up. 

 

The moments of his life spent before his infancy in front of everyone's eyes were becoming like a movie. Were thinking, "This is the way of the world." ''

 The clarinet echoed from the entrance of the lagna mansion, when the farewell sound. Goodbye Vela had arrived. Dadu, holding his beloved Dulari Batiya, holds a stone in his heart, walking forward a little step by step to send him away to his groom's house. The touching veela of Kanya's departure had arrived.