What Do Roses Symbolize?

Of Ethereal Love.

Generated from custom text of author. © Jayshree Gururaj

"Roses, roses. Four for a rupee," cried the street vendor.

Meera put her books down, stopped to pick up a rupee from her purse and sprinted to the entrance of her house, reaching it just as Srinivas, the vendor, was setting his flower basket down. He pulled the brown covers back to let Meera choose her five roses. He always gave her an additional one.

He could still vividly recall the scene when on his first rounds in this neighborhood, he was stopped by a child-like voice from behind him, "I only have ten paise. Will you give me one rose at least?"

Ordinarily, Srinivas would have walked on, but something in the child's earnestness struck him, and he set his basket down by her door.

Pure delight danced on the eight-year-old face as it surveyed the array of flowers. He could not stop from asking, "Beti¹, is this flower for you?"

The child raised her big, beautiful black eyes and answered, "No, no. This is for my Lord."

Srinivas was taken aback by the innocence of that reply.

Since then, for fourteen years, he came every day to Meera's doorstep, promptly at seven o'clock, and let her choose five roses.

Now, as he watched her gather them in the folds of her dupatta², he wondered at the happiness he felt when he saw her each morning.

The object of his study looked up, "Here Baba³, here is your rupee. Hope you sell all your flowers soon and go home early." 

Srinivasulu beamed at her, "Bitiya⁴, God willing. now that I have sold the first ones to you, everything will go smoothly."

So saying, he tied his turban and lifting the basket on his head, stepped out onto the street, "Roses, roses. Four for a rupee."

Meera smiled to herself as she stepped inside and proceeded to the puja⁵-room. Kneeling in front of the sandalwood figure, she placed the roses on her Lord, Krishna, and smiled at Him, "How beautiful they look at your feet, my Lord. As though they derive their splendor from You."

"Meera, oh Meera! It is getting late for your college. Hurry up, child," her mother's voice rang in the distance.

Getting no response, her mother came out of the kitchen and checked the bedroom.

Not finding anyone there, she went to the puja-room and spotted her daughter seated with her eyes closed. "I don't know what to do with this girl. People will laugh at her antics in this age."

Sighing to herself, she went on to oversee preparations for the day's meals.

A little while later, Meera finished her worship and going into her bedroom, she began to dress for college.

As she braided her hair, she could hear her mother rebuking her younger brother, Nitin, to finish his glass of milk.

When she went to the dining table, her father was just then sitting down. As he saw her approach, he smiled, "Well, well. We seem to have coincided our times today. What a good day it is turning out to be already!"

Meera smiled warmly at him and pulled up a chair. Her mother called from the kitchen, "Meera, carry these dishes from here."

Meera rose and went into the kitchen. "Sorry, Ma⁶, I forgot." Her mother just shook her head ruefully and gave her the dishes.

As the three of them sat down to eat, her father said, "Meera, there is something we want to tell you, but last night you went to bed early."

Meera looked up from her plate "About what, Babuji⁷?"

Her father glanced at her mother, who said, "Meera, yesterday we received a call from your aunt. She has met a very good family. They are well-to-do, and their son is very handsome and highly educated. He has just returned from his study abroad and plans to start a business here. What's more, they are really keen on meeting you. They have seen your photos at your aunt's house and have heard about you from her."

Meera froze in her seat. Slowly, she said, "But Ma, what is the hurry? Let me first work for a while after college."

"Good proposals don't wait for anything. The boy is modern in his outlook. He won't mind your working after marriage. Jobs will always be there, Meera, but a good boy and family will not come easily," her mother continued.

"But, Ma, I don't want to get married yet. I…."

"Okay, okay. We will discuss this in the evening. It is getting late for your college."

"Okay, Ma. Bye. See you in the evening," Meera gulped down her juice and rose from the table.

"Bye," echoed her parents.

Meera walked fast to her bus-stop, but her mind was on the conversation at the dining table. Oh, God, what was to happen now? So long she had evaded the marriage question by citing her need to complete her studies. But what was to be done now?

As she approached the bus-stop, Renu walked up to her, pulling her by the hand, "Come on Meera, you almost missed the bus."

Together they boarded the double-decker and made their way to the top. "Hey, what's the matter? You are lost," Renu nudged her friend.

Meera shook her head. 

"Look, Meera, I can tell when you are preoccupied with something. Come on, let up, what's going on?"

"Ma and Babuji mentioned that a very good proposal has come. Through Sheela aunty."

"Oh!" Renu fell silent. A minute later, "Then the time has come to tell them?"

"I don't know. I don't know what to do. Only He can show me the way," Meera bit her lips.

"Meera! Don't worry, everything will work out," Renu squeezed her friend's hand in comfort.

The bus reached their destination, and the two women got down and walked to their college, each with her own thoughts.

Later that evening, her parents came to her room.

"Meera, here is the photo of the boy. We both are very impressed with this match. What is your opinion?" her dad inquired.

Meera felt her stomach turn, her mouth dry up as she searched for any answer, any answer that would enable her to reject this proposal and gain more time.

But no answer came to mind. The match was everything that her parents had hoped for and more.

"Go on. Take a look at the photo."

Meera's hands trembled as she slowly looked at the photograph in her hand. She saw a dark person wearing a crown and carrying a flute in His hand. His eyes wore a mischievous gleam while a playful smile danced on His lips. His hands were raised as though He was getting ready to play the same music that had enraptured the people of Brindavan many eons ago. Her mind went blank.

"Meera, Meera. What happened?" Her mother's anxious voice brought her back to reality. The picture in her hand had slid to the floor.

"Nothing, Ma. Nothing."

"Did you like it?"

"Huh?"

"The prospective groom."

The groom? Meera's mind whirled.

"Meera, what is the matter with you?" Meera could only stare at her parents. What was she to say?

"No," came her voice.

"No? Just like that, no?" her mother stared at her. "Why do you say that, may we ask?"

"I don't know. I am not interested in this match."

"Why? What is wrong with it?"

"I don't know. It's just the way I feel."

"You cannot say that. This is not a joke. You need to have a reason for rejecting this match."

"I am not interested."

"What do you mean?" her mother asked sternly.

Meera's heart sank as she inwardly sought her Lord's help.

"Meera," her dad spoke softly, "is there anyone else? I mean, if you have met someone else, please tell us. You have nothing to be afraid of."

Anyone else? Meera shook her head. Not in the way they thought. Her heart could not imagine their reaction if they learned she wanted to renounce the world.

"Are you sure?" Meera silently nodded.

"What is wrong with this proposal? You have the right to reject a match, Meera, but you have to give us a valid reason for your rejection. As your parents, it is our duty to do what is best for you. We have considered this proposal from all angles and deem the match to be suitable to you. But the final decision rests with you. However, you must give us a reasonable answer."

"I am just not interested."

"That is not a reasonable answer. Why are you not interested? Have you met someone else? Has someone made you an offer of marriage?"

Tears flowed down Meera's cheeks as she shook her head in dissent. "Then why are you rejecting this match?"

Meera was speechless. "With what words, my Lord, shall this daasi⁸ of Yours address these questions?" her heart inquired.

"Meera, now look here, we won't stand for this foolishness of yours. You say there is nobody else, and yet you refuse to give us an answer. You are being very silly. We will invite their family home this Saturday. There is no harm in meeting them. Then, you can decide later." Her parents left the room.

Meera sat alone watching the intricate designs on her bedspread.

Suddenly she turned and fell upon the bed, crying.

Saturday found Renu in Meera's bedroom watching her friend silently. How beautiful she looked.

The long thick black hair swooped down her back, the bright red dress accentuating her large eyes which now held a hint of sadness in them.

Nitin rushed into the room crying excitedly, "They have come."

Renu took her friend's arm and led her out into the patio where the guests were seated, across from the sprawling lawn. The guests were struck by Meera's beauty; her demeanor radiated an inner tranquility.

They stared at her, unable to explain their own feelings at the sight of her. After what seemed to be a long time, Meera was excused from their presence.

Shortly afterwards, Meera's parents came into the room. Their faces were beaming with pride and happiness.

"Oh Meera, they were awestruck, and why would they not be - you are a daughter in a million. They could not stop raving about you," her mother exclaimed.

"Yes, and they are impatient to hear our response. When leaving they said, 'Please let us know as soon as possible.' Imagine! The groom's side, impatient!" her father chuckled.

Then, turning to Meera, he asked, "So, what is your opinion?"

Meera did not lift her head, "Babuji, I do not want to get married."

Her father pulled a chair in front of her.

"Look, Meera. You are the darling of our hearts. We have raised you with boundless love and freedom. We have seen to it that you lack nothing in this house. Your mother and I have sacrificed a lot, all our lives, to ensure that our children have nothing less than the best.

We have never asked anything from you in return. We always wish your happiness. This marriage is also for your future well-being. Are you going to repay our sacrifices in this fashion? This is an excellent match for you in all respects. You will be extremely happy. Would we do anything less for you? We ask if you have someone else in mind but you deny it. What kind of parents would we be if we let you make a foolish mistake because you are not wise enough yet. They are even willing to wait till your exams are completed." he paused.

Meera had no answer. She remained silent.

A moment later, he continued, "Is this all the love and respect you have for us that you now so blatantly disregard our wishes in this important matter? Where have you learnt to be selfish? We never thought you would behave thus, Meera. But we understand that you might be wary of the changes your marriage will bring, however, such fears are not unusual in one's life."

"Your dad and I are convinced that this proposal is ideal for you. You will live like a queen in that house surrounded by love," her mother added.

Silence crept into the room. From somewhere came the sounds of running water. A drunkard in the streets below passed by, singing a merry tune. Meera continued to stare at the carpet. She could hear the beating of her heart as the seconds hand ticked on its steady and familiar path.

"Meera, unless you speak out, we are going to assume that you agree to abide by our decision."

The beating grew louder and louder, drowning out other sounds of the outer world.

Her parents stood up, "Alright. We knew you are a wise girl and would not act foolishly. We will call them tomorrow. The marriage will be held at an early date since they are so keen on it. Goodnight, Meera."

Moonlight streamed in through the window lighting up a lone figure sitting on the bed but the shadow that was cast on the wall failed to reveal the tears that flowed from Meera's eyes.

Three months passed. She graduated with honors. Along with it, the morning of the wedding dawned. Meera was bedecked in bridal finery.

Fresh flowers covered the entire length of her braid.

The door to Meera's room opened suddenly, and her mother's anxious figure came in, "Oh God! Haven't you finished dressing her yet? They will be calling for her any time now."

"She is ready, aunty," Renu replied.

"Okay, okay. I shall send her father in soon then."

Renu sat down in front of her friend and lifted her face.

Meera's eyes spoke of an indescribable emotion while Renu's own held sorrow.

As she stared at Meera's face, tears welled in her eyes, and in a broken voice, she said, "I love you, Meera. Good luck."

Meera wiped the tears from Renu's face and smiled benignly. The door opened, and her father peeped into the room, "Are you ready, Beti?"

Meera bent her head and nodded, "Yes, Babuji. I am ready." 

They slowly led Meera to the mandap.⁹ The flames blazed in front of her as they sat her down opposite the groom.

A thin white cloth separated the two as the priest chanted his mantras, calling upon the divinities to witness this marriage and to bless the couple.

Meera's eyes were fixed on the fire, and suddenly from within it, she saw a familiar figure, carrying the flute, beckoning to her.

Her lips moved and formed the words, "Krishna, Krishna." Her hand stretched to touch His feet but met with the burning flames.

No cry escaped her lips, and she fell headlong against the brick enclosure of the fire.

The elders stood horrified. The groom got up in alarm. The priest jumped back. Renu let out a cry and raised Meera's head, letting it rest on her lap.

She shook her friend's body, trying to elicit some response.

Blood dripped on Meera's forehead, but only a smile played on her lips.

The eyes were closed to the impassioned plea on Renu's face.

Meera had gone to meet her Beloved. Meera was not to be bound by the love of this world - she had tasted love, Divine.

---

Notes:

• I wrote a modern retelling though still set in a different time period than today, when daughters had some autonomy, and marriages were often arranged. The story is a modernized take based on a 16th century renowned devotional saint Meera Bai, who was deeply devoted to Lord Krishna.

  

  Fair Use Image, Wiki, Meera Bai.

• Meera was wedded to a royal, who unfortunately passed away early in their marriage. He accepted and respected her devotion to Krishna, allowing her to live a saintly life within the palace walls.

• However, following his demise, his family, resentful of Meera's unworldly ways began plotting against her. They conspired to poison her and other ways to eliminate her.

• Despite their malicious intentions, Meera remained unscathed, seemingly shielded by divine protection akin to the young devotee in this narrative.

• Eventually, Meera left the Palace. She wandered the countryside, seeking solace in the company of itinerant monks and devotees. Meera's journey led her to a sacred temple where, in the presence of her beloved Krishna, she transcended the mortal realm to be eternally united with her divine Lord.

• Her devotional hymns in praise of Lord Krishna are still sung today.

1. Beti = Daughter.

2. Dupatta = flowing piece of cloth worn over an Indian dress.

3. Baba - is used for the elderly man in this context, as a form of respect.

4. Bitiya = affectionate form of ‘Daughter,’ Hindi.

5. puja = worship

6. Ma = Mother

7. Babuji = Father

8. daasi = servant

9. Mandap/ Mandapam = Altar