The Candle Girl in English Love Stories by SHAMIM MERCHANT books and stories PDF | The Candle Girl

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The Candle Girl


"Can I have a candle please?"
John choked on his words as he requested the girl behind the counter. He was standing in the one and only small shop outside the graveyard and was still grief-stricken, even after ten days of his mother passing away.

Cancer had been cruel on both of them. Within six months of diagnosis, it had taken away his beloved mother, and his happiness went away along with her. Having lost his father many years ago and being a bachelor, left him all alone in this whole wide world.

Since her demise, John had been coming to the cemetery everyday, and as a routine, he first went to the florist nearby, picked up daisies, his mom's favourite flowers and then came to Jasmine's shop, to buy her homemade candles. Jasmine was young, with simple natural beauty. She didn't have a mother and lived with her ailing father.

Moreover, while they did the transaction, John allowed himself a moment of solace, by looking at her pet parrot in the cage, who began chirping upon seeing him. Jasmine came back from inside with a few colourful candles in her hand. By now they knew each other by name. She asked him gently,
"John Sir, today I've made some scented candles. Would you like to buy one of them?"
John dragged his attention from the parrot, glanced at Jasmine and gave her a weak smile.
"Fine. I'll take the pink one. And please Jasmine, stop calling me sir."
She shied away and they finished their exchange with small talks.
"How's your correspondence course going on?"
She huffed before replying,
"As you said, it's just going on. Making candles, this shop, house work and dad. By the end of the day, I'm so exhausted, there's hardly any time and energy left to peep in the books."
John gave her a sympathetic smile and tried to comfort her.
"I understand. But you do want to finish your graduation, don't you?"
Jasmine rolled her eyes and muttered,
"That's the only thing that keeps me motivated."

In the past ten days, they'd learnt a few things about each other. Sympathy had shown its effect and they both, silently, secretly liked one another. Jasmine eagerly looked forward everyday, for those precious few minutes with John.

After two weeks, one evening, John didn't come to buy a candle. He was always on time and at sharp 4.00 clock he would be standing in front of her. However, it was nearly 5 pm and he was still not here. Jasmine kept flickering her eyes outside, but to no avail. Closing the shop for sometime, she went to the florist, picked up a single rose and stepped in the graveyard.
"Can you please tell me where Mr. John Menezes mother's grave is?"
She asked the caretaker and went there. Kneeling down, she lit the candle and kept the rose on the marble.
"Hello Ma'am. I wonder why John didn't come today, but I didn't want you to miss anyone coming to meet you, so here I am. I'm Jasmine, and John buys the candles which I make. Hope you like them. Your son is a good man. May you rest in peace."

Whilst Jasmine stood up, tears pricked in her eyes, as she remembered her own mother. Two more days passed by without seeing John. Not only was she missing him, but now she was worried as well. On the third evening after she visited his mother's grave, she went to the caretaker again.
"Do you know where Mr. John Menezes lives?"
She was in for some good luck. He knew.

Uncertainty crept in, shriveling her insides as she knocked on his door. Did she do the right thing by coming to his house? After all, he was just a customer. John was coughing when he opened the door. His face was flushed with fever, as he peered at Jasmine through glassy eyes. In spite of his condition, a smile danced on his lips when he saw her.
"Jasmine, how nice of you to come!"

They went and sat on the couch and she began softly,
"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were sick. I was worried about you."
"I'm glad to see you. The caretaker at the cemetery called me. I really appreciate you visiting my mom. You didn't have to. Thank you Jasmine."

For a week Jasmine did two things religiously; she went to pay her homage to John's mother and took care basket with her, when she visited John. Invariably he protested, upon which she would comment,
"You are all alone and need to be taken care of. Besides, I'm sure your mother is missing you. Get well soon, so you can come visit her."
Warmth flooded his heart as he studied her affectionately.
"Jasmine, you're a good soul. God bless you."
They became more friendly and got to know each other better than before.

A month later, now the reason to stop by at the cemetery had switched places. He went there more to see Jasmine and talk to her, than anything else. Her smile, her comforting talks, her cheer presence, gave him deep satisfaction, which he could not put into words. Just the very thought of her washed him with delight. Unknowingly, she had beautifully filled the vacuum left by his mother. Moreover, every time he looked into her eyes, he found the feelings mutual.

One evening, while paying for the candle, he asked her cautiously,
"Jasmine, would you like to have a cup of coffee with me?"
Even before replying, she auto smiled, as if she'd been craving for it. After that first time, it became a weekly pattern. John and Jasmine started going out together. He took a few liberties and sometimes held her hand, or put an arm around her shoulder. His closeness melted her, tickling her insides.

"Jasmine, today I want two candles."
She was surprised, but didn't want to question him. That evening, he invited her home and cooked dinner for both of them. Just before serving the desserts, he lit the candle and kept it on the table between them. He took both her hands in his and said ever so lovingly,
"Jasmine, you came into my life when I suddenly became all alone. If the almighty took away my mom, he gave me you. Your candles have not only filled my life with light, but also with joy and fragrance. Will you continue to illuminate my world with your light forever, by becoming my wife?"

Tears and smiles were already in tandem on her face, as she sat there, awestruck by his monologue. She stood up, came around the table and embraced him. Looking up into his eyes, she whispered,
"I love you John! You just made my dream come true."
He spooned her in his arms and kissed her tenderly on the lips.
"I love you too, my angel!"

Shamim Merchant, Mumbai
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