text: “Violets is Sometimes the Answer” When I was younger, Baba always told me, “even when someone is unkind to you, show them kindness.” I would ask him why, and he’d say, “because that is how I want to raise you and Ayaan. I don’t want my kids to arbor ill feelings and hold grudges. I’ve seen it tear my own family apart and I refuse to see it ruin your generation. Be better.” At the time, I knew he was talking about how his whole perception of marriage was messed up in his youth because he didn’t have healthy examples of the concept in his early life. He barely spent time seeing his own parents’ marriage due to his dad passing away when he was ten. The only marriages he saw were that of his siblings, and none of them were based on love. They were all arranged and somehow, they all got the short end of the stick. The women were whiny and bitter, and the men were controlling and manipulative. I had to wonder how Baba turned out the way he did, considering his family. He was a bubbly person with a heart of gold that my mother respected him dearly for. Baba was the embodiment of a human teddy bear; soft, kindhearted, and gave excellent hugs that could cure any bad day. He’s the reason I never give up on relationships. Friendships in particular. Anytime I have a problem with one of my friends, he repeats his spiel about showing kindness. It’s because of him that I’ve never said something I regret to another human being. Instead, I took to sending flowers. You’re probably wondering what flowers have to do with displaying bitterness. Bear with me. Flowers have meanings. I know this because jasmines are big in my culture and my grandmother back in Pakistan grows them in her backyard. She used weave them together to form crowns as she’d explain to me that they symbolize a sweet sort of love. Since that moment, I begged her to teach me how to make flower crowns and she obliged. I hold that knowledge close to my heart, and every year for my parents’ anniversary, I give them flower crowns made of jasmines because they symbolize what a healthy relationship should look like. When I learned that flowers held meanings, I studied about all the different kinds of flora and fauna, and what they mean. Most flowers have sweet symbolism, but the reason I became so invested in the concept is because I wanted to convey my negative emotions in a way that didn’t defy Baba’s only demand of me. So, I learned all about the flowers that represented annoyance and anger. From that point, any time someone invoked those emotions in me, I’d gift them with the corresponding flower. I was free to convey my emotions and the instigator was none the wiser. They would forgive me because they’d see the flower as a peace offering. It was a win-win situation. It also helped that Baba supported this outlet for me and bought me all the flowers I desired. However, despite how kind one tries to be, everyone has a limit. Zaara was my limit. The people you show the most love to, can hurt you the worst. Zaara may have hurt me, but she taught me a valuable life lesson that I would not trade for all the gladioluses in the world. The beginning of the end started on a random Thursday morning. Zaara and I had been having problems in our friendship for months. Our arguments were mainly over trivial teenage girl things; misplaced borrowed items, negligence, and boys. We never seemed to be on the same page and my closest and most trusted friend, Farha noticed. Farha was a girl I met before I even knew what friendship was. She was the one who knew how something made me feel before I even had to tell her. Our mothers were very close friends, which is how we met. She was the ideal mediator because she never took sides, even if they were warranted. Zaara absolutely hated Farha for reasons I couldn’t explain. Every time I’d ask why, she’d avoid the topic and talk about something else. Farha knew, but never held it against Zaara, claiming she probably has her reasons. And despite Zaara’s hatred for Farha, Farha always gave impartial advice to me when I’d come to her with my friendship woes. The latest issue we had was that Zaara was spending all her time with a new girl, Raania. I liked Raania. She seemed cool and like nothing bothered her. It was a quality I envied a little if I’m being honest. As someone with extreme social anxiety and hypersensitive tendencies, I always wanted to be someone like Raania. I wanted the three of us to hang out and be friends, but it seemed like Raania and Zaara wanted to only be friends with each other. I’d confronted Zaara about it twice, kindly of course as Baba’s words echoed in my head. But Zaara claimed it was all in my head. I thought maybe she was right. And that was when I made the decision to make Zaara a flower crown. I told Farha as much and to say she was shocked was an understatement. “You want to make Zaara a flower crown?” She asked, pushing her glasses up in a fashion that was on the precipice of judging. Farha would never directly tell me an idea I had was terrible, but her actions said it anyway. “Why not?” I asked, twirling a soft pink geranium across my fingers. It was one of the flowers I was planning on weaving into the flower crown for Zaara. “I know how special flowers are to you. Flower crowns are something you’ve only ever given your parents. Are you sure that’s something you want to share with Zaara?” Farha asked instead of answering my question. She was smart like that and it was easy to see why she was accepted into law school. “I think it will show Zaara that I’m serious about our friendship. And how I want to fix it. Like you said, flowers are very important to me,” I explain, slowly convincing myself of the same thing. Farha made a thin line with her lips and crossed her arms. “But does Zaara know that? I support whatever you decide Afrah. I just don’t like seeing you hurt,” Farha says wistfully, seeming to find her shoes more interesting than this conversation. Did my best friend have a point? Would I be wasting a flower crown on Zaara? I was torn between doing what would please Baba and what would give my own heart ease. I never gave up on a friendship and I didn’t want to start. “I have to go take Maahia to Missed Steak for her birthday dinner. Do you still want to come with me? It could take your mind off of this for a while,” Farha offers. I had completely forgotten that it was her little sister’s birthday and I had promised Maahia I would come. What difference would it make if I showed up a little late? “I’ll just meet you there later. I want to figure this whole thing out first,” I tell Farha and wave her off as she leaves. I see that Zaara posted on her story that she was going to the park near downtown because a famous singer was rumored to be there tonight. That was the perfect avenue for me to bump into her and give her the flower crown. That is, if I was still going to give it to her. I plopped onto my bed face first with a heaving sigh and groaned at the impact of my stomach making contact with the firm mattress. The rich purple and blue tones of the hydrangeas and violets on my desk were glaring at me to give them attention. I had made the crown with the flowers I told Farha I was going to, but I’d bought these two in case I wanted some darker color. I also wasn’t sure the meaning of those flowers applied here for certain. I still had a few minutes before I needed to head to the park. That gave me time to think about if Farha had a point. Did Zaara deserve the crown? I wanted it to symbolize that our friendship was real, and nothing could come between it. My door opened in the middle of my thoughts and in came Ayaan with his usual confused look. “Can I help you?” I ask, quirking a brow. Ayaan shrugs and walks in uninvited. He makes his way over to the flower crown and places it on his unruly curly hair. “It’s not Mama and Baba’s anniversary. What’s this one for?” He asks. I try not to laugh at how funny a flower crown looks on my six-foot brother and instead smile at how he pretends to be interested in my flowers. “It’s not for them. It’s for Zaara,” I explain, hopping out of bed and taking the crown off of his mess of a head. “Why?” He asks, watching as I place it back on my desk. He moves to grab it again, but I smack his hand away. “Because I want her to know I’m serious about our friendship,” I answer him, reaching for my wallet and keys. I decided I was going to give it to her and see how it goes. “You going somewhere?” Ayaan asks, watching me grab my things haphazardly. “Yeah, tell Baba I’ll be home late. Bye!” I call, rushing out of my room before he can ask any more questions. I spot Zaara within seconds of walking into the park. She was dressed nicely as usual, but she’d play it off in a way that I always admired. Her coral pink top had these bell-shaped sleeves that gave a cute look, but it confused me. Just last month Zaara had gotten onto me about how ridiculous bell sleeves looked. Perhaps the fashion world took on a new trend? I reminded myself to ask her about it later as I approached where she and Raania stood. That was when I saw it. Raania had on the same top as Zaara. I had asked Zaara if the two of us could wear matching outfits countless times, but she claimed it was tacky. My heart gave a painful tug, and I felt the familiar rush of anxiety flow through me. Thoughts like ‘no one likes you. Zaara isn’t really your friend. Who would want to be friends with you?’ My social anxiety began to flare up and I willed it to stop. This was meant to be an attempt to fix things, not start more problems. Baba’s words echoed in my head. “Show kindness.” Maybe Zaara just changed her mind about matching clothes or maybe they were a gift from Raania and it would have been rude to refuse it. Breathing in and out deeply, I felt my heart rate decelerate and decided to walk over to them. “Hi Zaara, Hi Raania!” I greet cheerfully with one of my most friendly smiles. The two of them turn to look at me, and Raania nods to me in acknowledgement. “Afrah? What are you doing here?” Zaara asks in bewilderment. I laugh at how shocked she sounded and held up the flower crown. “I wanted to give you this. It even kind of goes with your outfit,” I say blissfully, thinking I made the right choice not to go with violets and blues. Zaara eyes the crown in confusion, but takes it, nonetheless. “Is it a necklace?” She asks with a small smile as she admires the colors. I laugh once more and try to ignore the look Raania gives me. Maybe I should have waited to give it to Zaara in private. It might not have looked nice to give her a present in front of Raania. “No, it’s a flower crown. I made it myself,” I boast slightly. It was a skill I took pride in because my grandmother had taught me and not many people knew how to make one. “Oh. Cool. Thanks. Well, we’re going to go see if Shawn Mendes is actually going to show up. I’ll catch up with you later. And thanks again for the flower crown,” she beams, walking off with Raania toward the pavilion. I felt another odd tug at my heart. Why didn’t she ask me to join them if I was already here? Why didn’t she wear it just to make me happy? Was I overreacting? Probably. Still, something didn’t sit right with me about this. I walked over to a bench and sat down, feeling my anxiety flare up again. The last time it got this bad, I had rushed into the girl’s room and called Farha from my phone and she calmed me down. My heart rate was rapidly increasing, and I felt more negative irrational thoughts flood my mind about how pathetic of a person I was. I snatched my phone out of my pocket and dialed her number quicker than my fingers could process, praying she’d pick up. “Hello?” “Farha. Help.” “Afrah? Are you in trouble?” “Can’t. Breathe.” “Okay hey hey, listen to me. We’re going to count backwards from five. Do you think you can do that?” Farha’s soothing voice asked in my ear. It was already starting to calm me a bit, but I didn’t think I could speak more than two words at a time. “No.” “Hey, sure you can. Repeat after me. Five.” “Five.” “Four.” “Four.” “Three.” “Three.” “Two.” “Two.” “One.” “One.” “Okay, what’s going on?” She asked in a teacher voice. “I just had an anxiety thing. No big deal. Thanks for picking up,” I tell her, about to switch the phone off. “Wait. Where are you?” Farha asked before I could. “I’m on my way home from the store,” I lie. “I’m sorry but I’m not feeling great. Tell Maahia I’m sorry I missed her birthday dinner,” I say and click off the phone before she can try to convince me to still come. I sigh and drop my head into my hands. This night went a completely different way in my head. I decided I didn’t want to wallow all night, so I stood up and got ready to head back home and maybe do something with Ayaan, when I saw it. My flower crown, on the grass, unattended. I look around and see Zaara and Raania a few yards away taking pictures together. My blood boils and my fists involuntarily clench. I feel my anger rising, taking place of my sadness. Zaara didn’t deserve my flower crown or my friendship. She did not value me the way I did her. And she most certainly did not understand how important flowers were to me. Farha was right. Farha. My closest friend. I’d blown off her sister’s birthday to try and fix a friendship that wasn’t even worth saving. I shot one last look at my former friend and scooped up the flower crown she mistreated. Brushing it off, I raced toward my car, not looking back. I ran into my room with a speed I didn’t know I had. I looked at the flowers on my desk and instantly, almost mindlessly, began weaving together a crown of violets and blue hydrangeas and held it up. Four minutes. A new personal record. As I was admiring my handiwork, Ayaan came barging into my room questioning why I was home early. “Can’t talk, I’ll explain later, bye!” I call to him as I rush out, hoping I’m not too late. I sighed in relief when I saw that Farha’s car was still at Missed Steak and rushed into the restaurant. Maahia was opening her last birthday present and Farha was making a video of it. I quietly walked over when she was done and tapped Maahia on her shoulder. The little girl looked up and positively beamed when seeing me. “Afrah! But, Farha said you weren’t coming?!” She questioned excitedly. “I couldn’t miss your thirteenth birthday. I even made you something. Here,” I offer, handing her the peach and pink flower crown that I thought Zaara deserved. Maahia gaped at the sight of it and her eyes lit up. “I’ve always wanted one of these but never asked! Thanks Afrah, you’re the best!” she says, placing it on her head immediately. I smile as pink seemed to be the color of the day as Maahia’s outfit matched the crown perfectly too. “So, someone decided to make it after all?” Farha’s voice sang as she moved the camera to me and ended the video when I waved sheepishly. “What changed your mind?” She asked, placing a hand on her hip. “Change of heart?” I try and Farha shakes her head with a knowing grin. “I made you something,” I start, and Farha holds a hand up. “I bet you I can guess what it is,” she interrupts with a mirthful smile. I nudge her playfully and hand her the purple and blue toned crown. Her outfit is red, making it look silly in her hands. “It’s lovely,” she says, setting the crown on her head. I want to tell her it doesn’t go with her outfit, but something tells me she already knew. It’s funny how life plays out. This morning I woke up and thought of Zaara, associating her with coral roses, and now all I thought of when it came to her were lavenders and blue tansies. Not all friendships are meant to work out and that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. As long as the right friends are in your life, they’ll always outweigh the wrong ones.