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The Red Rose

February 14, 2016 | By

A short, simple, yet touching tale about the meaning and essence of true love.

His eyes fell on the table where the red rose was lying.

A small velvet box and a red rose awaited her entry into the cozy corner of the plush coffee shop. An eager heart waited too, rehearsing few lines to impress his beloved. She breezed in, dressed in strawberry pink. He could sink into her pink. She smiled, his heart was all aflutter. He forgot all the beautiful words he had rehearsed to impress her. He gifted her the rose. She took it gracefully, her slender fingers magnified the beauty of the flower, symbol of love. He managed to say few heartfelt words to compliment her good looks. She blushed, making him remember the first poem he had written on her,saying she herself was ‘a poem’. He found there was a naughty look in her eyes. Without beating around the bush any further ,he proposed. The velvet box was opened. Inside sat a rock ,with a prismatic brilliance that created a spark in her eyes. She exclaimed a small ‘ wow’! He was relieved, she had agreed! She took it, looked at it lovingly, and put it in her fingers. She held his fingers and kissed them lightly. She was beaming.  He was happy beyond words, though not elated.
He had imagined he would gallantly slip the ring into her slender finger. They chatted for sometime, sipping coffee and nibbling the titbits he had ordered.  He wished the evening would never come to an end, but she had to go. She didn’t want him to drop her. She left. It was a special day for him, not because it was Valentine’s day, but it was a dream come true moment for him. He was proposing to his college heartthrob, with whom he had not exchanged a single word in college, fearing she might turn him down. After securing a plush job with a fat pay packet, he dared to fix up this appointment through an old common friend. But some uneasiness bothered him. His educated middle class background had taught him to be respectful towards money, but never greedy.  He had saved to buy that very expensive ring for his ladylove, and she had loved it. Then why was he feeling so let down? His eyes fell on the table where the red rose was lying. She had dropped it while taking the ring out of the box. She never thought of taking it with her. The symbol of love lay there, unwanted and unloved.

Pic courtesy: Pixabay

More to read in our Valentine’s Day Special

Autumn Kiss – a love poem by Sufia Khatoon

Kiss Me Goodbye… – a love poem by Sufia Khatoon

Love Like Wine – a love poem by Dr Ampat Koshy

A Lover’s Plea – a musing by Ronald Tuhin D’Rozario

The Red Rose – a love story by Mallika Bhaumik

Togetherness – a love poem by Ramendra Kumar

Love is… – a love poem by Sunila Kamal Khemchandani

Creative Writing

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Learning and Creativity publishes articles, stories, poems, reviews, and other literary works, artworks, photographs and other publishable material contributed by writers, artists and photographers as a friendly gesture. The opinions shared by the writers, artists and photographers are their personal opinion and does not reflect the opinion of Learning and Creativity emagazine. Images used in the posts (not including those from Learning and Creativity's own photo archives) have been procured from the contributors themselves, public forums, social networking sites, publicity releases, Morguefile free photo archives and Creative Commons. Please inform us if any of the images used here are copyrighted, we will pull those images down.

The poet Mallika Bhaumik is a student of literature and has completed her Masters' degree in English literature from Calcutta University. She is an avid reader. Her other interests include traveling, listening to music and cooking.
All Posts of Mallika Bhaumik

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    “They're only crayons. You didn't fear them in Kindergarten, why fear them now?” ― Hugh MacLeod