The Giant and the Rose....

Once upon a time, in a small village near the forest, there lived a giant. He was a very nice giant; big, strong and helpful. Nobody knew how he came to the village, or how long he has been around. He lived near the villagers, as one among them(or so he thought),  helping them out and living an ordinary life.

One fine morning the giant felt bored as he had nothing much to do.(infact he never had, unless some heavy logs blocking the road needed moving or the elephant went mad or the likes..) Though he normally spent his free time in the forest, he thought otherwise that day. He strolled along the dusty path leading to the village from his big thatched hut, the village visible across the stretch with the forest in its backdrop. He wondered why he was never invited to the village unless there was any work. He was a giant and giants dont have deep thoughts, this thought also just passed over.
He reached the village, and at once felt unwelcome. There was something wrong... terribly wrong. All eyes were upon him, as if stopping just short of asking him why he was there. Had he done anything wrong??, he thought.
He passed the kids playing marbles, and for a change, they  all were howling and laughing at him. The elders hurried to silence them and the eeriness was back.  The prying eyes of ‘gentlemen’ followed him, till he was round the corner. And then there was the potter, the butcher and a set of familiar faces, cold and pale,  (with fear?) who normally would have smiled in admiration (?).  Doors were shut as he passed each house, and the village head who normally calls him for work ran away on seeing him. "What's wrong with these people?, I am just visiting them for a change..", he thought... 
He was seeing the villagers for the first time....

 His footsteps sounded heavier as he reached the other side of the village. 
The noxious mixture of fear and suspicion had weakened him, confused him. He was blind to the serenity of the woods as he thought, thought  forcefully for the first time....

He stood there, alone; or so he felt, for the first time…The air was thick with the juicy smell of ripe wild mangoes, but stood shy of those giant nostrils. So did the morning sun and the velvet greenery, that failed to catch his misty eyes. He remembered those faces, worse; he felt the hatred, the suspicion, admiration- the weird, disguised fear in all forms beneath those faces. May be he had been merely looking all these years and not seeing. He wished he hadn’t seen. For it made the difference.

It was a day of several firsts. He found his eyes rather moist, no, wet for the first time in his life.the bulging tears obscured his vision and burned his eyes.. He shut his eyes to empty them, save the pain. The tears rolled down his cheek and fell and fell and fell… till it splashed softly on a bright red rose…

The giant opened his eyes, lowered his eyes and saw her, the beautiful red rose. The tear drops, round and glittering in the warm morning sun somehow augmented her beauty, as if she was wearing a necklace of diamonds. He stood there, dumbfounded by the beauty that was pressing into his eyes, which instantly cleared his simple little mind. The serenity of the woods and the smell of the ripe mangoes sneaked in, past his distracted mind.

(The rose was all alone. She was new to this world. She had been told by the wise big trees that she’ll wither and fall, like the ones before her, and after her. She was longing for some joy, some alteration to the cruel monotony contrasting her charmed existence. She was waiting for him, unaware of the fact that it was him.)

The rose opened her eyes, half annoyed on being waken up and half puzzled. She was surprised to see the giant with tear stains standing near her, watching her in admiration. Why would anyone strong as the giant cry?, she wondered. She felt pity and asked politely, “were you crying?”... 

The words were so simple, so plain, and the voice so sweet, yet the giant felt his barrage of emotions broken by a mighty blow. None had cared about his feelings, let alone ask how he felt. He was either feared, hated or admired(feared).  He got down on his knees and broke down. Words came broken, forming sentences and then to a full-fledged conversation... no, it was rather him talking. He spoke of his immediate misery, his horror on knowing the truth and the pain of being hated and feared. He went on like a child, telling her all the little things, of how he had tamed the wild elephant which ran into the village, of how he had moved huge trees to clear the path,of how he had chased away the pack of wolves with a simpe roar... all those things he had done for his villagers...
no, THE villagers.

The little adorable rose listened. She had heard from the trees, the birds.. but now she listened, to the agony of the mighty giant, his loneliness, his adventures, his pain and to his hurt gentle mind beneath the tough physique…

Sun arched over and fell, the moon and the stars appeared in the sky, and true conversation began to shape up. She didn’t talk much; she never knew how to. She told him she was not afraid, since she’d grown in the midst of bigger trees. She told him that there was not much in her life that she can talk about. She talked about her ignorance, her silly concerns and her mundane loneliness . She wanted to hear, she loved to hear, of a life and world she’d never seen, or never would, and the giant was more than happy to entertain her silly doubts and queries. Her rare beauty in loneliness charmed him, as  his rough adventures her. It was the convergence of divergences, the union of fire with water and day with night... the twilight was indeed magnificent...
His pain reflected on her petals, as a tiny red diamond sparkled in the moonlight, the giant's tears long gone. His joy frothed the air with her smell. Love dawned that night, eclipsing the full moon, for it was brighter. The pair of the two made even the stars jealous.

For the giant it was as if God has skipped the routine and jumped to midnight right after daybreak. He hadn’t eaten or slept but felt fresh and alive. He didn’t want to go back to the village or the villagers, the huge outline of his hut looked unwelcome for the first time in his life. Meanwhile the rose was dwelling on her giant’s life, laughing and crying with him, living a full life in a day unlike the ones before and after.

“Are you sleepy?” asked the giant, to his rose. The rose smiled and said, “No, but you need to.” The answer soaked down to him slowly; he felt his cramps, swollen eyes, sticky, sweaty body and aching stomach longing for food. He felt weak and sleepy, as if she had sung him a lullaby. He smiled sheepishly and said, “You’re  right. But I don’t want to go back.. not today.. not ever…”

The rose gave him her biggest smile, he didn’t need her ensuing words, “The forest belongs to no one, whoever feels home here, is home.” to decide what he should do.  He wished her goodnight and slept beside her.

He slept, ..slept as if he had never really slept ever in his life. His dreams were a flood of colours, of life in the forest, of wild mangoes, of everlasting conversations with his rose, of the softness of her petals over his rough palms, of the two most unlikely souls ever to be in love…

He opened his eyes, the sun was blazing directly above him. “Ouch!!”..... Pain… something was terribly wrong… he sat upright and again.. “Ouch!!”  Something had made him bleed…he turned back…the unholy mess pierced his eyes, and stabbed his heart.. he collapsed, unable to grasp the horror, unable to cry, paralyzed in shock…

Before disappearing into oblivion, he heard somebody running, and a distant cry, “ the monster had crushed the rose!!!!!”.