THE GIRL THAT GREW FLOWERS- A fairy tale

A long time ago in the kingdom of Vaishali, lived  a young girl. Malalti was her name and she lived with her old grandmother. Her parents had died when she was young. Her grandmother and she had come to Vaishali after that. The grandmother was a florist. She grew and tended flowers and sold them at the temple gates. At first the flower sellers at the temple were annoyed to see another vendor but something about the grandmother made them hesitate. Soon, they became friendly with the grandmother and Malati became their favourite. The grandmother’s shop had flowers of many different kinds. Some which were quite unusual. When people asked her about the flowers, she replied, “ Oh! My friends send me these flowers and I sell them here.”

As time passed, Malati became a beautiful young woman. She was graceful and her movements were dignified. People thought that she looked like a princess. Her grandmother was growing old. She knew that her time on the earth was less so she called Malati and told her, “Malati, I have to tell you many things before I pass. You are no ordinary girl, in fact you are the daughter of the Flower queen.” “What??? Me. Daughter of the flower queen. How is that possible? Where are my parents then? How did we come to Vaishali?”

“Let me speak, child. We are flower guardians and we lived in the far ridges of the Mainak Mountains up in the north. My daughter, your mother fell in love with the crown prince of Mewat. He came to us and begged your mother’s hand in marriage. Her father and I were troubled because we knew that people would not understand her powers over flowers but what could we do? In spite of all the misgivings, we agreed to the marriage. We just told your father to take care and never to divulge her powers. Then , many years later just when you were born, we received an urgent message from your father urging us to come to Mewat.” 

Malati’s grandmother took a sip of water and then continued with tears in her eyes, “We hurried but we were too late. The palace was in ruins. Its gates were hanging on their hinges and there was bloodshed everywhere we saw. My heart was in my mouth as we reached the inner palace. There , lay your mother, her throat slit and your father sat holding you and her in his lap. His sides were stained with blood and he was labouring for breath. He begged us to take care of you and then with slow breath told us how a so called magician had turned the entire population against their queen, your mother, all because she had refused to worship him with flowers especially created by her.”

Malati furrowed her eyebrows, “Created by her. I don’t understand. How could she create flowers?” Her grandmother said, “So can you. Have you ever noticed how a certain flower changes colour once you caress it? I knew then that your powers are stronger than your mothers. I too can create flowers but my flowers lack smell. Yours look exactly like you envisioned. I was waiting for the day to start teaching you mantras but now I can’t wait anymore. Go, get two pitchers of water and lock the door.”

Malati brought two pitchers of water and sat down next to her grandma. Her grandma waved her hand over one of the pitchers,muttering spells all the time. Then she sprinkled that water on the floor and hey presto, a trailing vine of sweet smelling desert rose, in vivid red sprouted from the vacant floor. Then, she waved her hand over the other pitcher and sprinkled the water over the vine. The flowers disappeared leaving behind the sweet smell of the roses. Malati said tremblingly, “ Grandma, I thought of sunflowers yesterday when I had gone out and suddenly, I saw many of them over in the corner of the garden but I had not sprinkled any water, so how come they appeared there?” “My darling, you are a natural flower empath so they obey your whispered wishes but you have to be careful of your powers. I will teach you how to control your power.” said her grandmother.

Days passed and Malati learnt how to control her powers and her talent at producing flowers grew. Her grandmother, meanwhile, became ill and could hardly get up from her bed. Malati took up the shop at the temple and started selling flowers there. One day, a well-to-do lady came to Malati and said, “ I have heard that you can procure flowers that no one else can. I need 100 blue lotuses tomorrow for a puja. Can you please help me? I have come here after searching for a long time.” Malati looked troubled , “ Ma’am I can try but it will take some time to procure the flowers.” The lady said, “Please help me. This puja is for my son’s health. He has been unwell for a long time. Please help me. I will give you as much money as you want.” Malati agreed. She came back home and told her grandmother who looked troubled. “Malati, blue lotus takes a lot of work. Be careful.” Malati took a deep breath and carefully centered herself. Muttering the spells, she sprinkled water and the room was filled with blue lotus. The next day she took the lotuses to the temple. The lady was ecstatic. After the puja was done, she rushed to Malati. Giving her a hug, she said, “ Malati, thank you. Your flowers helped me complete the puja.” Malati was soon asked by many to help them with exotic flowers. 

One day, a royal procession came to the temple. The king, queen and the prince all stepped out. They had heard of the girl who could bring the flowers one desired. The prince was captivated by that story and told his parents that he would marry only that girl and no one else. They decided to test Malati and asked her for the beautiful Kadamba flowers for a special puja. Malati was taken aback but this was the order of the king, how could she refuse. Her grandmother was also terrified but what could they do? Malati sat down to meditate and conserve her powers. She sprinkled consecrated water over the floor and there in the old hut, grew a tall kadamba tree bowed down with fragrant flowers. Malalti gathered the flowers and then the tree disappeared. However, this scene was seen by the prince who had followed Malati back home.

He entered the hut and ordered Malati to show her powers again. “Show me what all flowers can you grow?” Malati and her grandmother were scared. Malati looked at the prince with tears in her eyes and said, “Prince, it takes immense power to create one flower. How can I show you a whole garden? It will destroy me.” The Prince looked at the girl and then said, “ Fine. I have seen what you can do and I don’t want to hurt you. Will you marry me and I will protect you so that no one can take away your powers.” Malati agreed and so the wedding was held. Malati’s grandmother blessed her and gave her a diamond ring with a flower embedded in the centre. She said, “ My dear, this is the best gift that I can give you. When you feel overwhelmed by the world, use this ring and it will transport you to our flower garden. I am very sorry but I feel my time slipping away. You have to be strong but never compromise on your dignity and self respect.” Soon, Malati’s grandmother died leaving her forlorn.

The prince was true to his words and never let her feel sad. He always protected her and they were happy as they could be. However, as times passed, things began to get a little difficult. Malati could not go out alone anywhere. The nobles were angered that the prince had chosen some common person as his wife so they humiliated her and treated her as someone who was lesser than them. One day, the king decided to throw a banquet for all. All the noblemen and their wives and daughters showed up dressed to the hilt.  Malati adorned herself with flowers and she looked ethereal. The prince was charmed as was the king but the others looked down on her with disdain. They mocked her and taunted her. The prince could not anger the court so he kept quiet. Malati heard everything and then looked at the prince with tears in her eyes. “You had promised me that you would protect me. Isn’t my dignity worth anything? Why should I be humiliated? I had not asked you to marry me. Why should I be punished when it was you who wanted this marriage? You have heard people humiliate me. You have seen me cry yet it hasn’t bothered you at all. Okay, if you can’t protect me then I will protect myself.” Malati then left the banquet hall. The prince was surprised at her outburst but then thought, “ Malati is angry right now but it is fine. I will make it up to her after some time.” So he remained at the banquet.

Malati came to her room and very carefully took off her flower ornaments. Her room was cheerful with flowers overflowing everywhere. She had tended the flowers with care and they had multiplied. However, right now the room churned with many thoughts. Hers and her flowers. She looked into the mirror and saw a sad face peeping out. Malati loosened her hair and stepped out of the silken garments. She wore her soft old comfortable clothes, wiped out all makeup, freshened her kajal and tucked a parijat flower into her unbound hair. Then she took the ring her grandmother had given her and caressed the diamond flower as she whispered to the ring, “Take me away to the garden of my heart.”

The wind roared and the flowering trees shook their laden heads. Thunder snapped and crackled and then everything went dark. The banquet hall was in darkness and in that darkness, things changed. When the lights came on, the people were stunned. All the flowers had disappeared as if nothing had ever grown. The colours all looked drab and listless and so did the people. The prince stood as if carved by stone. An unease gripped him. Something was urging him to run towards his palace. He ran not knowing not caring but it was already late. His palace stood forlorn. The gardens which had been in a riotous bloom just a few hours back were a barren ground. The vines stretched like dead wire across the walls. The trees standing with dead branches seeking merciful rain and of Malati, there was nothing left. Just one withered kadamba bloom left to taunt and mock the prince. 

The prince sent messengers out into the world to find out about Malati but no one knew where she was. Then the Prince himself rode out to seek her and ask her to come back. He rode as far as the sea ended. There at the very end of the world, he saw a beautiful garden in bloom. There was parijat kumud, neel kamal, champa and kadamba. The prince knew that he had come to Malati’s home. He dismounted and asked the thorny babool trees which stood as guards to let him pass. The trees looked as if they wanted to shut themselves against him but then they parted their thorny branches and let him pass. The prince saw Malati standing in the middle of the flower meadow. She looked regal with flowers adorning her. The prince begged her to come back to the palace with him but Malati said, “Oh Prince, you took me for granted as did your people. I grow flowers, I tend them not because I need to sell them but because of who I am.  You forgot me when you let them make fun of me. My dignity was not worth fighting for but you are wrong. I am more than your wife. I am more than their queen and I am more than your people. I am me and I choose to be me. You can go back. I have no fight with you and your people but I will not go back to the palace that never belonged to me.” 

She gave him a pouch of seeds to carry home and sprinkle in the gardens. “I know that people miss the flowers so I will give some of my blooms to you. Take care of them and tend them but I will not go back with you.” Then she waved her hand and the grass mound on which the prince was standing flew up and deposited teh prince on the far coast. The prince realised that he had lost Malati forever. He hugged the precious gift to his chest and rode back to the palace. He sprinkled the seeds everywhere in his kingdom and took care of the plants. The plants grew and spread their fragrance everywhere and each flower reminded him of the girl that he had lost.