It is when at the secret valleys of the hilltop, darkness moved as if a veil, it is when the blue bird used to sing the song it had never sung before … we two, Roop and I used to hurry to the hill to gather Mayflowers. We both loved Mayflowers… fragile, sweet scented, pink blooms fascinated us whilst alluring us to reach atop the hill where nothing but dream rests. Holding hands Roop and I ran .. ran.. and ran.. till we faded and dissolved into the land of Mayflowers. We gathered mayflower.. each day.. every day .. day after day!!

It was also just like another day … the clock struck at 5: the rich- red- ruddy illumination of the setting sun shed light on the brow of the hills .. Roop called me to the hilltop …. We were plucking flowers, playing in the silent stream….suddenly I saw a bearded man… standing alone.. his stern face had least emotion.. A perplexed me asked him—‘ hello —– I have never seen you , do you know anybody here” whom are you looking for ?”

Silently the man nodded … and then stretched his hand towards me.. he was holding a golden bowl …’Hold this .. the bowl is for you.. ‘ his stereophonic voice echoed as it wounded the silence of the evening.
“
What is this bowl for ? I do not need it .. “
You will need it someday or other …. the man insisted …
I took the bowl, held it in my hand.. the golden shimmer of the bowl reflected the light of the tawny evening. What will I do with it ?
It is a magic bowl…. If u weep holding this bowl then your tear drops will turn into drops of emerald. But remember u need to be sad, truly sad to weep while holding the bowl .. otherwise the magic will end….

I was holding the golden bowl in hand .. bewildered, mesmerized and shocked … Roop found me standing stupefied holding the bowl.

What are u doing here? Look I have gathered all the Mayflowers today ….pink, purple, lavender Mayflowers were lying lazily in the basket. I gazed at the Mayflowers!! I was feeling happy … But I needed to be really sad, truly sad to make my teardrops turn into emerald… I snatched all her mayflowers …. Crushed them… and the mayflowers lied on the grass , dead, strangled ..all pale!! But I did not cry .. no tear came in my eyes…. I needed to weep .. needed to be really really sad.. to feel the magic in my pulse … Roop was crying .. her deep dark eyes were filled with tears as she stared at the crushed flowers….

But I was still not sad… I was angry .. breathless… wild…desperately wanting to weep sadly .. I looked at Roop … held her tight but Roop pushed me and ran away whilst leaving a greedy me alone to weep and gather emerald. I lost my ally, I lost my second self .. tears rolled from my eyes.. I held the magic bowl.. my tears turned into emerald…I was weeping and the bowl was filled with emerald. I was frightened then.. I then desperately wanted me to stop crying. But to my amazement I wept .. wept and wept.. emerald drops filled the bowl… covered the hill.. filled the stream..I wept and wept………

I am still weeping holding the magic bowl… i do not want to weep rather want to happy ..but the magic bowl will never let me be happy… All I can feel is a sharp , intense pain always hurting me, crushing me, strangling me ……I am weeping sitting alone at the side of the stream…. Mayflowers have stopped blooming.. it is here only the green cold eyes of the emerald!