She slowly climbs the blue-white stairs surrendering to the exhaustion from the day’s labour. Her lips are slightly apart and eyes are closed to avoid the mundaneness of routines and the soul-sucking familiarity of every day. The summit, her destination, seems very distant. As she continues, the soft wind carries an unusual scent that immediately sends her home to the tropics. The air bears a serene concoction. It is an ethereal medley of the mild fragrance of the damp earth and the faint perfume of Ixora odorata. Her eyes search amongst the vibrantly coloured pots with plants on the stairs and those upon the wall. She spots a blue pot and finds the dead flowers from ages ago replaced by the dance of the pretty pink and white. It almost looks like a bouquet of buds and blossoms, giving her a scintillating welcome. She is carried miles away from where her legs temporarily seem rooted. Her mind is filled with images galore from her cherished childhood amidst the tangy mango blossoms and humongous jack fruits. Her heart aches to get back to her paradise.

Another rush of the wind brings her to the present. Her feet no longer seem tired and her bag burdensome. With her newfound strength she brushes her fingers gently over the stars artistically made of four tiny and delicate petals. On withdrawing her hand, she feels strangely empowered and content. She decides to take one last glance at the odorata flowers before proceeding further. Having lost her weariness and the pangs of her soul, she reaches her place. She is taken by surprise to find her mother waiting for her, dressed in mauve, with a basket of the Ixora odorata flowers. There is a teary-eyed reunion and the restoration of the immaculate bond. From her mother’s cocoon of love, Andrea realizes that she is home. This time the flowers have not carried her to her past. They give her the present, another Eden.