In the busy metropolitan of Kathmandu, space for a beautiful garden is like a dream. However, her terrace was full of colorful flowers. In her 900 square feet, three storied home, every year she planted 101 species of flower but only 100 bloomed every year. Her life was surrounded by those flowers and that is what she lived for. After cooking for her husband, cleaning her house and giving meds to her in-laws, she came back to those flowers. After all, the flowers were the representation of what she wanted for herself.

She accumulated her tears of not being able to grow because of the society by watering those plants to grow. She hid the bruise from last night when her husband showed her love with his belt on her body by spraying pepper water on each flower and leaves to repel bugs. She calculated every pollen cycle and helped the flowers breed, because she knew those flowers buds were the only off-springs she could see. She never planted flowers outside of the small clay flower pots bought from the farmers market because she wanted those flowers to be dependent on her like she was dependent on her husband.

She had been growing these flowers on her terrace for almost 20 springs and nothing had ever changed. Until this year where she had a new neighbor, she looked almost like her and had started growing flowers on a terrace right next to her. The neighbor’s flowers were very resembling her own, but were sold on the farmers market. This new neighbor amused her so much. The new lady was always so confident and happy. She was often caught by the new neighbor peeking over to her terrace and looking at her flowers. This new lady offered the seedling of a flower to her. Regardless of how her husband warned her not to talk to her new neighbors, she gathered courage and accepted those flowers. This year she had 101 species, a new flower with delicate strength which brightened the world around her, those tiny bluets.