It was a patch of green before it turned into a bed of beautiful flowers. To the travelers along that path the rustling leaves would bring soulful notes of music composed by that unseen musician. The myriad colors of the flowers with intricate patterns on their petals and an enticing fragrance would also join in the chorus. The resulting symphony would be a welcome inspiration to cover more and more of the path, till a destination or a milestone.
At times, some of the passersby could see an old gardener sitting a little away and aloof from this bed witnessing the riot of colors and listening to the strains of music played by the swaying, rustling greens and the breeze. On some days when a few tender, dew kissed buds were still being welcomed by the skies some of my older friends would start wilting and withering away. The gardener would quietly snip them away and retire to his favorite seat, withdrawn and aloof from the greens, flowers and buds and the strains of the lilting melody of breeze.
Season changed and gradually the colors and strains of music of leaves started fading and wafting across to the yonder horizon. It was not very far into time, when one day the gardener was digging out the bulbs from that flowerbed. I paused to have a look at those small bundles enveloped in brown, scaly, paper thin covering with a little bit of mud and roots still sticking. Where did disappear the rich vibrant hues of the petals, the melody of rustling leaves and the enticing fragrance of those beautiful flowers? The colors, the patterns, the fragrance, and the notes of that divine music all lay enshrouded in those brown and scaly bulbs.
I remembered having witnessed the tiny fresh tender green shoots emerging from the flowerbed and growing to become buoyant shoots bearing small buds. The entire treasure of colors and patterns had emerged from these very scaly, brown and unattractive bulbs. When the bulbs merged with the earth and lost their identity, the shoots grew and flowers danced with the breeze. Now the variety of vibrant colors and rich hues, myriad shapes and patterns all slept encapsulated within the confines of a monotonous scaly brown bulb. To a casual passerby the beautiful flowerbed had been as if devoured by a monotonous patch of earth and mud. However, looking through the gardener's eyes one could realize that though unmanifested, the flowerbed still existed wrapped up within those scaly brown confines of the bulbs.
The gardener was again busy with preparations to store the bulbs for the next season, quite unmindful of the thoughts and fears of the passersby and all the joy and cheer brought by the flowerbed this season and the preceding ones.
The scenario unfolds for all of us every day and at every step in our lives. This folding and unfolding of the micro and macrocosm is a constant phenomenon manifest in and around each one of us. The bewitching array of innumerable hues of color lies all folded up in the bosom of those scaly bulbs and withered looking seeds. The vast variety of shapes forms and names emerges from the one nameless, formless and folds back into it again. Do we have to pause to stand and stare for appreciating and absorbing the beauty of this phenomenon? No, we don't have to stand and stare; we just have to keep it always in our minds and keep on going on and on from one season to another, from one milestone to another and there will be beauty unfolding for us at all steps and all around us, always.