The Jasmine Vine

Short Fiction ~ Sangeetha G

Honourable Mention, Strands International Flash Fiction Competition - 19 

He had not noticed the jasmine vine peeping into his room through the window till it bore a few flowers and invited his attention. Small white flowers had popped up among the green leaves like bright stars in a dark sky. But these stars spread fragrance and happiness around. 
 
He wondered how the vine had reached there. All other jasmine vines were growing in the garden and growing in the opposite direction to soak up as much sun as possible. But this new vine was moving towards the shade of the house as if the hot sun was too much for it to handle. It had crept over pebbles strewn in the courtyard, climbed up the wall, and spread itself across the window close to his bed. 
 
“Last time when I went to the garden to collect the jasmine flowers for Malar, I had not noticed this new plant. Can a vine grow this long in five months?” he wondered. 
 
Malar had only one wish during her last days. She wanted to smell the jasmine flowers till her end. Probably, she wanted to keep the smell of death away. He plucked jasmine flowers from the garden every day and placed them close to her on the table in a bowl. They kept her cheerful and away from dreadful thoughts. She inhaled her last breath swollen with the fragrance of jasmine flowers and never let it out. Inside her body, the fragrance was locked up. He thought she would have gone to a place where jasmine flowers surrounded her and kept her cheerful always. Over the years, he had associated her smell with jasmine. She loved the flowers and took care of the vines like little children. In her conversations, jasmine vine was a constant topic.
 
That morning, the jasmine flowers peeped in through the window and filled him with happy memories about her. In the past five months, nothing much had crossed his mind apart from her memories. But those were sad memories about her sickness and her painful last days. They pulled him further down into grief. He was not quite aware of what was happening around him. His life had lost its pattern - he slept till noon and remained awake in bed till midnight. He hardly ate anything throughout the day and missed most of the calls from the office. 
 
After five months, he smiled for the first time when he looked at the jasmine flowers. They made him feel that she was around. Probably, she would be cooking in the kitchen, tending the plants, taking bath, cleaning the vessels, or reading a book lying in the hammock hanging near the garden - he loved to believe so. That thought made him feel that he was not alone in the house. He came back to life and things were once again normal. 
 
The jasmine vine grew fast and covered the entire window. A few of the tendrils sneaked into the room and tickled him to wake him up in the morning. The fragrance of the flowers filled him with happiness and energy. He spent time with the vines. He talked to them about his day and they tossed their heads. When he smelled the flowers, the tendrils hugged him. He fell asleep looking at them and woke up seeing them fresh and fragrant. 
 
His colleague Vedika wanted to see the jasmine vine which had brought him back to life. He brought her home one day. She took the fragrant trail toward the bedroom. An entire window was covered with green leaves decorated with tiny white flowers. It was a sight to behold. She had never seen jasmine flowers in such abundance. He plucked a handful of flowers and tucked them one by one into her hair. He then smelled those flowers and held her closer to him. He planted a kiss on her lips and held her tight. She snuggled up to him under the quilt. 
 
He had fallen into a slumber when she woke him up. “What happened? Why are you looking terrified?” he asked. She pointed her finger towards the window. The jasmine vine had completely dried up. The flowers had withered and fallen on the ground. All the leaves had dried and turned dark brown. The stems of the vine were dark and brittle like dead sticks. He ran outside towards the garden. The jasmine vine lay dead and dry without a trace of life. 

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Sangeetha G is a journalist in India. Her flash fiction and short stories have appeared in Sky Island Journal, Down in the Dirt, Academy of the Heart and Mind, Kitaab International, Indian Review, Nether Quarterly, Muse India, Storizen, The Story Cabinet and Borderless Journal. Her stories have won Himalayan Writing Retreat Flash Fiction contest and Strands International Flash Fiction contest. Her debut novel 'Drop of the Last Cloud' was published in May 2023.

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