Even now when sometimes no one is around I will sit at the corner, take out her photograph from the deep pockets of my wallet, and will stare at her, marvelling, for hours without blinking. And sometimes when I lose hold of all my emotions I will hit the road to visit her. She would always be there, waiting patiently only for me. Ana is the only florist in the town. I’ll take the finest flowers for her, always. Daffodils. She loves daffodils. I know the reason why. I could never appreciate poetry but she said poems are like life, always open to interpretation. She said life in itself is meaningless, it is us who assign it a meaning. Just like poems, sometimes all that the poet means is that the sky is freaking blue. I remember, she would take me to the open fields and sing out loud:
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
And all I would do is keep looking at her and when she would notice me do that, I would pretend to look at the blue sky.
I knew she would be there, where else she could go. She always looks me into the eye when I see her but she never talks these days. Back then, she would tell me about the latest book she had been reading or would start singing out poetry in her majestic voice with animations related to what’s she had been thinking lately. I would try to reciprocate via another poetry but I would fumble and fail. She would laugh like a child. She learned over time that I do that on purpose. After all, it’s only her who told me that life in itself is meaningless, it is us who assign it meaning and I found the meaning of my life in her happiness. I think she’s giving me a silent treatment. Like you do to your loved ones when they hurt you but you want them to notice it first without you having to tell. It’s a punishment for not paying enough attention. But I know, she isn’t that kind of person. She’s the kind of person I want to be.
The sky was blue. The sun was shining. The golden daffodils were ravishing to reach her. She kept looking at me without saying a word. I kept smiling with every step I took. I looked once at the blue sky and then I looked at her. I kept the flowers on her gravestone caressing tenderly. She would always be there, waiting patiently only for me. Beneath the blue sky wandering lonely as a cloud, a host of golden daffodils and the meaning of my life rests in peace.