It was an early winter morning when I spread my soft, tender red petals and started to bloom in the Student’s garden with the chilled winds.
As I looked around, everything was frozen as it didn’t spring when I usually bloom but there was a warmth in my body and in front of me the Nightingale was lying dead with my thorn in her breast. I was created by the blood and the music of the Nightingale in the moonlight.
There was stillness all around me, the Oak tree, the Green Lizard, and my neighbour Daisy all were mourning with pain and sorrow. The Oak tree called the Nightingale, but she didn’t reply. I said to the Oak tree that I have felt the love and fondness of the Nightingale for the Student all night long.
When Nightingale heard that the Student wanted a red rose, she spread her brown wings for the flight and soared into the air. She passed through the grove like a shadow, and like a shadow, she sailed across the garden.
The Nightingale went to a rose-tree in the center of the grass-plot and she asked to give her a red rose and she would sing him the sweetest song but the tree replied that his roses were white so if she wanted a red rose she should go to his brother.
The Nightingale flew to the rose-tree that was growing round the old sun-dial and asked him the same question but, unfortunately the roses were yellow so she went to another brother who was beneath the Student’s window and requested him to give her a red rose but the tree replied that his roses were red but the winter has chilled his veins, and the frost has nipped its buds, and the storm has broken his branches so, he won’t be able to give red rose this year.
Nightingale begged if there was any way to get one red rose, so the rose-tree answered that if she wanted a red rose then she must build it out of music by moonlight, and stain to his veins with her breast against the thorn and she must sing to him all night and the throne must pierce her heart and her life-blood must flow into his veins and become his. The nightingale
became happy and agreed to do it, she spread her brown wings for flight and soared into the air. She went to the Student and told him the news, but he didn’t understand as he was able to hear only chirping. She flew back to the Oak tree where she has her nest and started waiting for the moon.
The Oak tree was very sad as he was fond of the little Nightingale, so he requested her to sing for the last time.
The time passed fast and the moon showed this face, the Nightingale flew to the rose-tree and pressed her breast against the thorn, and started singing. The Nightingale pressed deeper and deeper the throne inside and sang louder and louder, everyone there was witnessing the sacrifice of the Nightingale for the happiness of the Student.
I came out of the bud, but I was white. I was shining as white as silver. The tree told the Nightingale to press closer and closer before the day comes. The Nightingale was so fond of the student that for his happiness she didn’t stop singing.
She sang louder and louder all her breast out. The blood from the veins of the bird went into my veins.
I was able to feel the warmth of the blood but still, it was not enough to change my colour. I was able to feel the pain and love of the nightingale as the blood was flowing into me. The tree again repeated to press closer and closer or else day would come. The nightingale pressed closer against the thorn and sang louder and louder. As I was hearing the song I was falling in love with her voice.
I felt envious that the Student had got such a true love that he didn’t even know. I am a symbol of love from ancient times many people confess their love holding me in their hands but there was no one like Nightingale who sacrificed their lives for someone else’s happiness. Gradually my white colour changed to pink like the face of the bridegroom when he kisses the lips of the bride.
But, I realised that the thorn hasn’t reached the heart of the nightingale, which would turn me to crimson red. It was hard for me to say but I told to press harder so that the throne could reach the heart. The Nightingale pressed closer and the throne finally touched the heart, the moment it touched the heart there was a flow of emotions and feelings which I felt and the blood from her vein flowed to mine and slowly my petals became darker in the center and soon my end petal became red and I changed into a crimson red rose.
I heard the nightingale’s voice grew fainter and fainter, her wings began to beat, and the Nightingale gave one last burst of music and fell in the grass with the thorn in the heart and seeing the true love of the Nightingale the white moon forgot the dawn. I heard it and trembled all over with ecstasy that the Nightingale was successful and opened my beautiful red petals in the cold morning.
The Oak tree was excited to see me and called nightingale but she didn’t reply. The Student opened the window at noon and became shocked. He thought I was his luck, as such a beautiful red rose, he had never seen so without wasting any time he just plucked me heartlessly and went to the girl holding me in his hand, he didn’t even notice the nightingale was lying dead in front of the tree.
When the student reached the girl’s house, he saw that the girl was sitting in the doorway so he asked her whether she would dance with him as he had brought the most beautiful rose for her but the girl didn’t agree as her dress wouldn’t match with my colour and the Chamberlain’s nephew had sent her some real jewels.
The girl compared me with the jewels and said that the flowers are nothing in front of the jewels, but she didn’t know how priceless I was. The Student in anger threw me to the street and I fell in the gutter, my petals got torn when a cartwheel went over me.
My beautiful silky petals got muddy and the student walked away conveying how silly love is; whereas he realised love is more precious than emeralds and fine opals. Love can never be compared with materialistic things. My life ended there in the gutter, but I fell in love with the nightingale and her voice.
By Abhirupa Basak.
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