Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Meet Poppy

Poppy!

Poppy, the very controversial plant, is known for its surprisingly diverse use and abuse. The opium - producing plant is also used as a medicinal plant of varied assets. Red poppies are considered a symbol of death.

Poppy, the person, is much like her namesake plant, and then some more.
Eclectic, quirky, multi-hued. Helpful and healing when required. Hazardous when not handled right. And before we forget, beautiful.

Poppy walks into a room bringing a burst of sunshine with her. Ringlets of raven hair abundantly tumble down her shapely back. The little diamond nose stud Poppy wears twinkles, but not more than her huge brandy colored kohl lined eyes. Multiple bracelets on her wrists make sweet music as she gestures animatedly. Her full cupid bow mouth splits into a delightful smile when happy and forms a little moue when she can’t get her way.

Adore her, abhor her, but you can’t overlook her.

Poppy is one of the most emotionally volatile people you would meet. She loses her temper before you even realize it and is as calm as the Buddha even before she realizes it.
Poppy is always in a hurry. She wants everything, yesterday. She reads the ending of all books first (“Suppose I die before I get to the end?”) has desserts before her meals (“Why should we always end our meals with desserts?”) She debates topics with much glee and doesn’t even recognize when she’s switched sides.

Poppy has lots of questions buzzing in her head. Questions, which sometimes even she doesn’t have answers to.

A Fashion Designer by profession and not just any fashion designer mind you; Poppy has the ability to turn a stretch of fabric into a magical garment that flatters the wearer no matter what. Her designs turn a frog into a prince and an ordinary girl into a breathtaking beauty. Poppy has two faults though. She sorely lacks ambition and is controlled by her moods, both of which don’t let her reach the pinnacle of success she deserves.

Poppy lives a huge house where the word ‘privacy’ is unheard of. Everyone thinks it’s their right to know what the other person is doing/thinking/feeling. A much adored daughter/granddaughter/niece/sister Poppy sometimes yearns for time alone.
If she is sad, everyone wants to cheer her up. If she’s thinking, all and sundry want to know ‘what’.
Her only safe haven is her room, where she can thankfully spend some time alone. She speaks her heart out to her blind goldfish, Nayantara and her best friend, Peehu who is like a sister Poppy never had.

© Mayuri Sharrma.