Chapter-1 WHO LONGS FOR SPRING
Somewhere in the beautiful town of Vianden, Luxembourg stood a two storied glass building with grey stone pavement leading to its white doors. A pink board hanging on the floral archway read 'Expectantes fons café'. A tall tree stood inside the building's garden, proud and straight. About a mile and half away, near the parking of Château de Vianden, in a very peaceful and undisturbed place stood a beige six storied rectangular apartment complex surrounded by stunningly distracting flowers of all colours and sizes. At the beginning of the driveway was a white Victorian iron gate with huge black iron work reading 'Blooms'. And inside, a petite woman was dancing to Henry Lau's 'It's You'. Her long raven black hair practiced salsa in the sudden rush of air as she opened the French window leading to the balcony.
There is nothing a cup of strong coffee and a deep breath can't solve. The early morning breeze filled Aanya's lungs, diffusing the essence of thousands of snowdrop petals in her heart. The cool and fresh green scent of snowdrop in the air meant arrival of spring. Smile, listen, offer, talk and send off. She repeated her life lessons just like every morning as she went on to start the coffee machine and, from a distance, she heard the birds chirping. Spring is early- they said. Something Aanya has always wanted to hear, an early spring, an escape from the cold and dark winters. You don't see clear sky, flowers or birds in winter just the voices of raging storm and stage plays of the dark clouds. But spring is different, there are colours, melodies, birds, children everywhere, taste for food and above all beautiful and stunning flowers. That is what spring looks like; at least that's what Aanya has heard of. There used to be spring everywhere, there is still spring everywhere except where she is. She was told by Diana that a 100 watt smile can cool off a War, if only people tried. What does it take to smile? It might take the tenth of a second to try smiling, then why don't people do it anymore? All they do is run and run chasing after a red packet with millions.
Smile, listen, offer, talk and send off. Smile, listen, offer, talk and send off…she kept on repeating as she poured the steaming coffee into her opal mug staring off into her terrace garden. She had many kinds of flowers there, but none gave her the satisfaction that a Cherry blossom in full bloom once gave her, four years ago. It felt like a millennia since then, days became short and night began tailing her. That happy and energetic girl vanished and replaced by a women with trust issues and insecurities. Often, when everyone talked about their problem to her she would wonder – "whom should I talk to?" But it never prevented her from providing a listening ear or anchoring shoulder instead it made her motivated to create a place that gave people a sense of belonging, though temporary. She knows that deep down every person needs someone to talk to and that they feel lonely even when surrounded by hundreds. People need just something more than commonality to make a conversation - warmth, and that is something she has in loads. Although she is not aware of the effect she has on people, she still tries her best to live for others while searching for her 'spring'. She had no idea of what her spring would be like or rather who it is going to be. Well, no one can predict the future. That's for sure.
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A completely different person who shares Aanya's same purpose of life is Janise Freeman aka Hopeful Jan, who is very empathetic, loving and accommodating. She has been having a hard time for six years ever since the suicidal accident of her student. Until then she was the most loved teacher of Newman High School, a faculty of Mathematics she lived and breathed for her students. But when tragedies strike, they seldom look at the person who will experience it, being the unbiased companions, they are. That incident made Janice lose hope in teaching and focused more into her inherited ability of baking, following her mother's footsteps. She loved and preferred weeding over gardening, a trait she realized after meeting Aanya. Two years ago, she came across the hiring notice of 'Expectantes fons café' and met San who interviewed her. They had instantly hit it off making San her close friend and a younger brother. Love was a novelty for her and acceptance was far from possible. What she desired was a reason to move on and show the world that she was living every second and not just surviving through the daily routines.
The clock on the nightstand screamed six o'clock in the morning and Janise turned toward the noise. Intrusion she thought. She hated waking up early and enjoyed sleeping in, but of course it wasn't a luxury she possessed as an 'Expectantes fons café' staff. Bossy Aanya required her to wake up at six and deliver 'the day's flower' to the café's doorsteps at seven. Although she was annoyed about it at first, she later realized that it was for her own good. Waking up in the morning and plucking flowers meant peaceful thoughts first thing in the morning and walking towards the café a mile and half away meant release of energy and workout. It amazed Janise how precise and aware Aanya was about everything but she also knew what a pitiful soul her boss was. To her, an ideal spring is when happiness engulfs one, with family and fun. Neatly combing her bed hair into a top bun, she went out to the garden Aanya grew with other residents of the building. Standing near the steps leading towards the garden she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Inhale…exhale… "Pick a bunch of the first flower you see" Aanya had once told her. Zinnia she spotted them first. Beautiful flowers yet very negative symbolism must be a pitiful soul. She thought a she descended the steps. Reaching the flowers she said "Thank you for the beautiful blooms on behalf all the people who will witness your beauty. I hope you'll find peace." That was something Aanya insisted on as well. "Thank the plants, wish them, and then proceed to pick the flowers. Be gentle as if you're detangling a child's hair."
Gazing towards the sixth floor she saw Aanya staring off to a distance with a white steaming coffee mug held in one hand while the other one circling the rim of the mug. Her jet-black hair flushing a warm shade of golden brown as the morning breeze and light ran their hands through them.
"Morning" She called out to Aanya. Just then as if knocked off by the wind Aanya recovered from her trance and waved at her wishing her back "Good morning, Janise. Did you have a good sleep? Would you like some coffee?"
"I slept good, thank you." Janise replied, the surprise was very clear in her voice. 'I slept good, thank you? I slept good, thank you?' What a lame way to wish her benefactor. But Aanya just smiled and continued to stare into nowhere. Just how does she manage to inquire so deeply about a person when obviously she is dying to answer that question herself? Janise thought, it was clearly impossible for a normal human being to do it. Then again nothing about Aanya seemed normal, everything from her smile to posture screamed special and classic, yet deprived and hidden.
"Zinnia, I see. Do you know what they mean?" Aanya asked, this time leaning on the railing of her balcony with a small but genuine smile spreading on her full and luscious lips. Her bell like voice once again putting the dawn chorus at a distance to shame. Janise's silence confirmed the answer for that question.
"Zinnia symbolizes longing for happiness and love. You give it to someone who is expecting to get married or someone breaking off a marriage. Both of them are looking for love, one to hold on to and another to compensate for the lost one."
"Good morning girls. Talking flowers so early?" Mrs. Shin who lives on the fourth floor came out to her balcony holding a book that read 'tao te ching'. She was an elderly nurse in her late fifties working at a rehab centre. She had great love for mangoes and always shared pickles and dried sweet mangoes with the other residents. She also took care of Aanya's petunias and orange lilies, always keeping their growth in check. It was kind of a personal joke. Janise never understood them. Mrs. Shin was just that person who always shooed off the anger from Aanya's mind. She had that special ability to cool a person down with her words and amazing sweet snacks, which she somehow managed to stuff with an unhealthy amount of mango slices.
"How's that Cherry blossom of yours, sugar?" She asked Aanya with ungoverned concern and hope.
Aanya shook her. No, Nothing yet. The sadness was plain and direct for a second, and then suddenly it was replaced by hope and determination. But I'm waiting; they'll be in blooms soon. A silent conversation took place and Mrs. Shin nodded in understanding. But Janise interpreted them in her own language. Turning and leaning forward on her railing to face Janise she said-
"The bun looks lovely on your hair, Janise. I see you walk up early today…oh…" That's when she noticed the Zinnias in her hand. "Zinnias uh...? Doesn't have a very nice meaning, but is a good omen." She said shrugging.
Is it a good omen? Zinnia's mean longing for love and affection. So, a good omen? Zinnias must be bringing someone love, right? In Janise's case true love was fine, but for Aanya… She wants spring. Not the normal seasonal spring, but a very special something Janise was unsure of. Is her spring on the way? While the morning chaos continued with Janise running all the way to 'Expectantes fons' and Aanya getting ready to make frittata muffins, at a distance in the café's garden stood the tall Cherry blossom tree and its companion the Plumeria tree. They were in constant dilemma, asking each other whether it's time to bloom yet or wait till each woman find their spring. After all it's been four years since anyone saw them bloom and it's been a torture watching the girls suffer every day and force themselves to smile.
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Snowdrop – represents purity and arrival of happiness (spring)
Zinnia – longing for love and affection, dying to steal a glance
Petunia – anger and resentment at its peak
Orange lilies – unescapable burst of temper, revenge and disdain