It was as if he lost his childhood, and with it, the innocence, impishness and that glee in his eyes. Sukha dai knew all about it. He had been selling flowers in the neighborhood even before Divyaj was born. Back then, the environs were not as vibrant as it was now; everyone knew each other by name. Immaculately arranged Dutch roses, Tulips and Lilies; a unique and gorgeous bunch of flowers lay in the gracefully standing crystal vase which his dad had brought for his mom from London. His mother was very fond of flowers, and it came as no surprise that Prerana loved flowers as well. "It is beautiful; takes away the pain," she often says. He never really liked when Prerana talked like that. He somehow felt guilty, although he knew it was just a random equivocal comment. 'Prerana'; his father had chosen this name. He often used to say, "Isn't she beautiful? Somehow I feel inspired to do my best when I see her." Yes indeed after Prerana, his father had become a lot more responsible and more determined to succeed. Somehow he thought it is essential to succeed for his daughter. Divyaj often wondered if all fathers felt that way when they are blessed with daughters. Or is it just an outdated perception? Now, he knew the answer. Time had taught him with enormous cruelty.