The 9 o’clock Flower

It’s been awhile since last I posted anything here. The last ‘blog’ post may as well been something about reading and teleportation and time-travelling if my memory stands correct. In a way, its funny to say so because it is as if I can’t check my entries and my memory is of a rusted 89 year old gramps. Neither are true, mind you. I can check my entries but it’s too much effort. Plus, I am right when I say the reading thingy was the last blog post. So no need to shuffle through the internet to check out if its true or not. Okay, I think that’s enough random rambling for today.

The 9 o’clock flower is a beautiful little thing. It comes in all sorts of colours and believe me, they are such cute flowers, you feel like snuggling them up with your cheeks. The leaves are deep green and pointy, as if saying “I’m small but I’m capable of taking care of myself”. And now a bunch of them are lining my sister’s room in cut-out plastic bottles, taken care by yours truly, my adorable little sister. Well, she’s not little per se. She is of a small built but she’s no kid. She’s 19 years old but has the face and body of a twelve year old, with an innocent attitude to compliment her childish looks. Sometimes I dread something bad will happen to her, what with the increasing number of wild and pedophilic people in the world. She’s just so sweet and cute, I fear for her safety. How will she fare in the big wide world with many different tracks and traps? Nauzubillah minzalik. Allah, please forbid any harm done unto her.

In this hard and harsh world, and my daily living through it, a warmth in the form of cuteness like hers is a blessing and a cure. She sent me cute pics of her flowers the other day, kind of like boasting about it, but in a nonboastful manner. Green thumb, konon. The flowers she bought from the Pasar Tani on Saturdays for a ringgit each. Because she hasn’t had enough of them, she went into town today to buy some more, only to be disappointed for not finding any. That is when our grandma told her that it’s only on sale on Saturdays. Maybe to let out her frustration, she texted me, saying she can’t wait for the next Saturday to buy some more and plant some more and send pictures of them some more. Well sis, Saturday is not far away. So be patient till then.9 o'clock flower hilya

I’m not supposed to write now since I have exams coming up tomorrow but what the heck, I feel like it, so I’ll just do it. Facing catalysts and reactors for hours on end is really draining the strength and will out of my body. Looking back at the pictures my sister sent me, I feel obliged to write about them and the one taking care of them. I really feel like hugging my sister right now but distance has victoriously inhibit me to do so. Bravo, distance. You win this time. Looking back at those pics and reading aloud her texts in her voice (in my mind, of course) makes me really hope that the world could be filled just by those two, the innocence of my sister and the cuteness of those flowers. Maybe someday it’ll come true. It needs the right time to happen, perhaps. Just like those 9 o’clock flowers, only blooming at 9 o’clock in the morning.

The 9 o’clock Flower

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