bhaskar saikia

There are thousands of red roses in the world. But mine is different.

It’s not different because of how it looks—but because of what it means to me. I watered it, cared for it, and watched it bloom. I gave it my time, my attention, and my love. And in return, it became something special.

Others may see it as just another flower. But to me, it holds memories. It holds emotions. It stirs something deep inside—a quiet ripple in the still lake of my heart.

We often forget this truth: things become special because of how we treat them. A rose becomes my rose because I chose to love it. It may be ordinary to the world, but not to me.

In love, it’s the same. What matters is not how perfect someone seems, but how deeply we connect. How we choose to love. How we hold space for another soul.

People may laugh at those who love too much. Call them foolish. But isn’t love always a little foolish?

I believe everyone is someone’s rose—unique, special, and worth loving. Even if it seems ordinary to the world.