She spoke less to people and enjoyed scent of moist soil, drizzles and she loved rain. She understood the birds that nested on the willow tree more than the postman who came often. She never got attached to any person before, not that life never gave her a chance to like people but she was often left with her own world of plants; flower that bloomed for her, rain that played her  a song,  the squirrels who gathered nuts; and Birds who sang for her. She was blossom in a spring. You could never call her a loner, hardly tears rolled down her cheeks not that she ever got hurt, but she had a shield over her emotions. She was strong and bold. A person to admire she was; someone who gets concerned in seeing a sad flower. She laughed and talked like every other person. Her life, her views; When she sees a sad jasmine, she would stop to care and speak to her “of gloom and happiness what do you share?” as if the little flower is listening it would shake its petal in regards. She would pour a hand full of water on the jasmine; it would merrily dance and sway, as if she could feel the happiness of the little flower. In return she bloomed couple of days later…she took care of a broken winged bird who was hurt by an eagle. Rivals were they and friends she made them. She had the touch of Midas, and a heart as a snow white, pure as white Lilly who bloomed in the pond and spreads its smile. She dresses her pain with beautiful orange and blue for the people who saw her never knew. It was the feeling and warmth when she came near and her voice. Her whisper, I could hear even now. Crisp and clear as she whispers my name and the scene comes to my mind, holding me by her side; “she is a computer genius, writer and a law student”....