He had no idea when exactly he had fallen for her. Every day, at the same time, at the same spot, she would stand facing the sun, waiting for the number eleven bus. That’s how he had mentally named her – Sunflower. Under the crimson gulmohar tree, she would stand motionless, her gaze fixed on a distant point. Nothing seemed to distract her – not the rickshaw’s tinkling bell, the honking of cars, the general hubbub. Even the sweet cooing of a cuckoo perched above her head failed to draw her attention.
One would expect her mysterious gaze to wander at least once towards the tree branches. Or perhaps, when the fallen crimson gulmohar petals painted her surroundings, a few might land on her and she’d brush them off. But no, she stood there as still as a statue, waiting for the bus. And when the bus would finally arrive, swaying majestically, the conductor would immediately gesture towards her, reserving a seat for her without any delay.
Then, the bus started again at the usual time. A mysterious smile always seemed to linger on the girl’s lips. What kind of charm did the girl possess that made the boy so deeply attracted to her? Or was it that mysterious smile? The boy tried desperately to attract the girl, but to no avail.
As this continued, one day, the boy was surprised not to see the girl at the usual time and place. While thinking about the girl, he looked up and saw that the bus had arrived on time. The conductor was also looking around for the girl. After a while, when the bus was about to leave again, the girl came running frantically to catch the bus. But, unable to catch the bus, the girl gasped and stumbled, accidentally bumping into the boy. The boy immediately caught the girl. And that’s when their eyes met.
Time passed. On the day the boy offered a bouquet of roses to the girl, he learned that she was mute. With sparkling eyes, she pointed to the flowers and gestured that her name was Pushpa. She could never believe that anyone would ever love her.
The boy then made her understand that he didn’t care at all that she couldn’t speak. ‘So what if you can’t talk? I can,’ he said, raising both his arms and spreading them wide, he shouted, ‘Pushpa, I love you, love you, love you, and I want to hold your hand for the rest of my life.’ With these words, he took one of the girl’s hands in his with utmost trust. Instantly, the girl burst into laughter, her voice ringing out like a melodious tune. Once again, their eyes met in a bond of infinite trust. They began to walk hand in hand, roaming happily in a kingdom of joy and dreaming starry dreams.
