The skies were always covered with gigantic clouds. Not covering the entire canvas though, the clouds hung there like they were castles of Gods. The God’s who would shower upon the mortals every now and then with the life giving rain. The weather was always very cool. Soft breeze kept blowing from the green mountains. Long-crested Eagles could be seen gliding with an awe of supremacy through the clouds. Near the village that was on the slopes of the Seventh mountain was a patch surrounded by tall Bunya Bunya Pines, where many shrubs and herbs grew. After many years or might be centuries, and after a long wait of generations of the village that passed only waiting, finally among the shrubs a bright Red Rose took birth.
People and animals of the mountain and other mountains came to see the beauty of the Red Rose. At night even the moon would sneak through the clouds to have a look at this beautiful marvel of nature.
“He is so beautiful. I don’t know what purpose he has been born with?” whispered a Luna moth to a Gray Pancy who was fluttering around the nearby flowers and was already afraid to approach the mystic Red Rose.
“He seems Godly to me. Might have been born for some Godly Job.”
“I think he would be sent to the Prime Minister. For what can be a higher duty than to serve into the room where the Prime Minister works.” the Luna moth tried to answer churning his tiny brain.
“You are so dry. You can only think about politics.” said the Gray Pancy as she was a Philocalist and believed that beauty can only exist in art and never into politics or even economics. “The Rose would be given to the most beautiful girl in the whole Universe and then she would be photographed and spammed all over the internet for the world to see and admire… how beauty meets beauty.”
“Ah! That is so fake. A Rose so beautiful should be auctioned and the money earned should be invested in building a school for blind children.” chirped a Russet Sparrow who was sitting on a tiny branch and was feeling bad that altruism had been losing scope these days.
No one was able to figure out where to use such a special thing. Everybody had a different view about what should be the suitable purpose for the Red Rose, but it stayed right there. It was like the divine artist’s completed work, if you try doing anything more to it, it would only lose it’s beauty and hence everyone was skeptical about taking any decision for the Red Rose’s destiny.
Six days passed and still the Rose was there shining as brightly as before. Untouched as before. Everyone was curious as to what would happen to the Rose.
“I thought it would stand up and give a speech about what one should do in life. There is actually a lot of trouble deciding that. Sometimes I wish I should just gather food, eat and survive, but at times I feel I should go out on a pilgrimage and see the world.” said a squirrel who was sticking upside down with her paws on the Pine’s trunk.
“Ah! I think it would just die off. Although it is extraordinarily beautiful, but in the end only a rose. Like all beautiful things, it has come and would just go away and soon be forgotten too.” said a Gecko who was basking on a nearby rock and was not very happy about existence itself.
On the seventh day a catastrophe occurred. The Red Rose had dried and it simply dropped off the plant’s shoot. Everyone was stunned to see the Dead Rose lying on the marshy soil. It had lost all its shine and color and lay there like a corpse that had turned dark brown with decay. The whole forest was full of murmurs about what had happened.
“See… I told you. It came just like everything and It has gone just like everything else. There is nothing special.” said the Gecko with his voice having a tone of an Oracle. Everyone agreed with him and suddenly the Gecko felt good about his existence.
“What a waste.” said one of the boys from the village.
Months passed and the Seventh mountain had already lost quite all of its tourism revenue. Spring came and the forest was full of flowers, but nobody cared to go and look out for the Red Rose plant and those few who did, did not find anything there. Winter came and boys and girls came out of their houses wearing colorful woolen shawls.
One morning a little boy lost his way into the woods. He had been crying because his father had slapped him for eating extra bananas. It was evening now and the whole village was worried about the lost boy. After hours of search the villagers finally reached the patch surrounded by the Bunya Bunya Pines. They found the boy happily sitting right in the middle of the patch, which was full of bright Red Roses that shone like brilliant rubies in an emerald mine, each as beautiful as the old legend. There were as many Roses as the stars in the violet sky above, enough to fulfill each purpose that had been thought for the old Dead Rose. The moon was full and the sight was wondrous.
The Special Red Rose had certainly met his Godly purpose