Flowers, Too Late

 

Most men go through life giving; sacrificing their desires, shouldering responsibilities, and silently carrying burdens that few acknowledge. Yet, appreciation is a rare gift they receive. They are expected to provide, to protect, to endure without complaint. Their emotions are overlooked, their struggles go unnoticed, and their contributions are often taken for granted. And then, when they are gone, when their presence is no longer felt, people finally remember to honour them, with flowers.

From childhood, society conditions men to be Karma Yogis; selfless workers who do not seek recognition. A father wakes up early, works tirelessly, and ensures his family never lacks anything, but how often does he hear a word of gratitude? A son sacrifices his own dreams to support his loved ones, yet his efforts are seen as his duty, not as an act of love. A husband stands as a pillar of strength, suppressing his own worries to bring comfort to his family, yet his affection is measured in what he provides, not in how he feels. The world moves forward, expecting men to bear their responsibilities without question, yet never pausing to appreciate the weight they carry. And then, one day, when he is no longer there, when his absence is felt more than his presence ever was, people gather. They place garlands around his photograph, shower his lifeless body with marigolds, offer floral tributes as part of the Antim Sanskar. Ironically, the same flowers he never received in life now surround him in abundance, but by then, he is beyond this world, beyond the need for validation.

Why do we wait until death to honour the living? Why do we express love only when it is too late? Flowers are not meant only for the final journey; they should be given when the heart still beats, when the eyes still shine with dreams, when the hands that build and protect are still warm. A small gesture of appreciation, a simple acknowledgment of effort, can be more valuable than the most elaborate tribute offered in death. Sanatan Dharma teaches us that everything is fleeting, that this human form itself is temporary. Then why do we delay expressing love and gratitude? Just as we adorn our deities with flowers as a mark of reverence, let us also honour the men in our lives while they are still with us. Not because they seek it, but because they deserve it. Let us not wait until the end to show love; let us give flowers to the living, not just to the departed.