Wednesday, July 16, 2014

The Rangoon Creeper speaks...

I saw her come one winter morning, she seemed disturbed. She had an infant in her hand. A huge lorry came and stood in front of the house gate and I knew this lady was here to stay. I wondered about them, just a bit; not much… after all I did grace their balcony. The owner of the house had planted me and I had grown and covered the arch. She opened the front door and smiled when she saw me. “I have always wanted my door to open to an arch and the arch to be adorned by creepers " , She said to her mate.

She would sit in front of me sometimes and delight in the sounds of the birds that took refuge in my arms. It seemed to make her happy and for my part I was glad that there were still these evolved apes who enjoyed the same things we did.

Spring came and I started my celebrations and put forth my buds inviting my friends all over. She was so ecstatic that I felt good.  It feels so good to be appreciated does it not? When just being there is enough for someone? I felt happy. One day she sat near me with her mate and started narrating incidents from her childhood. Somewhere, far away, she said, in her amma’s childhood home, beside the doorway there used to be two Rangoon creeper vines. They grew and adorned the canopy and would have such beautiful pale flowers that she would spend almost half her mornings just looking at them. Once though, she found that the vines had been cut and from then on, she had missed them in her life. I remember her exact words to her mate “I always wanted an arch in my dream home and I always wanted Rangoon creepers on that arch" And I was happy to hear that.

One day it rained heavily. It felt wonderful to wash the dust from my leaves and shed the old leaves which clung to my browned vines. But my happiness was marred a bit when I heard her friend complain about how dirty the front yard was because of me. All the dust in my leaves had made the floor muddy. Her friend wished I was not there. I saw my girl smile but I knew from her smile that it was not of acceptance. It was of incredulity from what was said.  She did not mind the muddy floor. My hurting heart calmed down. She liked me still. She was not a fair weathered friend.

Every night I flavor the air and when she comes to lock the gate she takes a moment to savor it. And in that moment we speak to each other. She thanks me…I thank her…


  1. What a unique way of narration, the perspective of a creeper. Loved it Rahmath!!

  2. Very well written Rahmath :-), my hello to Rangoon creeper :-)


Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me.
You made my day :)