The Humble Plant

The soft morning wind breeze over the evergreen field and kiss my cheeks gently. The soothing sunray mildly diffuse to the atmosphere. Warm and calm.

I hear a short high-pitched sound coming from the chirping birds in the bushes. Chittering and twittering, showing pleasure and joy to each other welcoming the sun of the day.

I heard a continuous low, murmuring sound of babbling water at one side of the field. Crystal clear water running down the stream and the fish are dancing along imitating the water rhyme. Look natural. Sound natural. Very natural.

As I step on the brilliant green colour of the grass, my eyes are rendered to tiny little semalu that horizontally crept on the grass. Wild and scattered. With tender purple, sphere-like, furry flowers and thorny stems. Ugly. Unappealing. Intensely hurt when the thorns sting on feet.

I remember the time when my dad which I called ayah took me to this place. Long time ago when I was only five. Walking hands in hands with dad was a great time. When I first saw this plant on earth, I asked dad, “What is this plant, ayah?” “This is semalu, darling. The humble plant. When you touch it, it will close itself. It’s very shy, not letting anyone to pick it up” he replied with a smile. I love ayah very much.

Suddenly, “Oouucccchhhhh!!!!!!” I stepped on those thorny semalu. Red blood oozed out from my feet. Tears streamed down and flooded my face. “I hate semalu!!! Why do such plants do exist on the world??!!! It’s painful!” I shouted. My dad bent his head, rubbed my shoulders, kissed my cheek and said, “No honey, you must learn from this semalu to be a good girl.” I puzzled, “How? I’m a girl, not a plant.” “Yes honey, this little and humble plant is full of qualities that you can learn in your life. You will realise it one day, girl” expressed dad while his hand carefully covered my wound with his handkerchief.

“Whewwww...” The wind blows my scarf roughly and transported me back to the present. Now I understand my dad’s words. A plant which taught me to be what I am today. Be like semalu; closed when touched, shyness is not a shame. Shyness is pride. Be like semalu; thorns for protection, strength to defend badness. Be like semalu; good roots and not easily blown away by the wind. Strict to own principles and not easily influenced by people.

Time passed by very quickly and now I am no longer a child. Turning to be a young lady and becoming an adult. I had grown up with all of these qualities. Many things had change and one thing that still remains is; I am a girl. A girl who learned to be a woman by appreciating a humble plant called semalu.

Credit to: Mahfuzah Zainol