A Small Bouquet, A Big Thank You
The late morning sun in Kuala Lumpur filtered softly into the small studio apartment where Thivya was finishing her assignment. Her table was cluttered with notes, pens, and half-scribbled ideas the usual scene during her final-year project. Between studies and helping at home, her days had begun to blur together.
Then suddenly, Thivya received a text from Aira, “Come out with me for a bit? I promise it’ll be quick,” Thivya hesitated. She almost said no. But something inside her whispered that she needed a breather. They met at a café near White On White, chatting about assignments and life. It was supposed to be just a short break, but as they walked past the flower boutique, Aira tugged her arm gently. “Let’s go in.” Thivya blinked. “Eh? For what?” Aira grinned. “Just trust me.”
Inside, the shop felt like stepping into a bubble of calm. Pastel blooms, soft music, and gentle colours filled the space. Thivya scanned the bouquets, some elegant, romantic and bright. Each one radiating its own personality.
Aira nudged her toward a cheerful bouquet wrapped in white. It had pink and cream roses, pops of yellow, tiny blue flowers, and playful colourful dots on the wrapper. It looked joyful, almost childlike like a reminder not to take life too seriously.
“This one suits you perfectly,” Aira said. Thivya laughed softly. “Why? Because it looks like a birthday party?” Aira shook her head. “No. Because it’s warm, bright and it makes people smile… Just like you.”
Thivya paused, taken aback. Aira continued, more gently this time. “You’ve been helping all of us… your siblings, parents, even me. You never complain and you never ask for anything. But Thivya, when was the last time someone thanked you?”
Thivya opened her mouth, but no answer came. She realised she couldn’t remember. Aira picked up the bouquet and placed it into her hands. “This isn’t a gift from me. This is from you to yourself. For carrying everything so well.”
Thivya stared at the bouquet, its bright colours blending softly like a little celebration. She felt something tighten in her throat. She hadn’t realised how long she had gone without acknowledging her own effort. She was always busy achieving, helping, solving but rarely appreciating. “Buy it,” Aira said, smiling. “Say thank you to yourself, at least once.”
Thivya finally nodded. At the counter, as she held the bouquet closer, she felt a warmth settle in her chest. The kind of warmth that said, You’re doing your best and that is enough. Walking out of White On White, she felt lighter. It wasn’t the flowers alone. It was the meaning behind them. A small bouquet, yes — but a big reminder.
