The Tree

One Chilly winter morning.

An empty coffee mug left alone on the window-sill.

Corner of the room.

The two walls create a corner to discover my crouched self.

An uneasy comfort.

Eyes closed.

I dream.

I’m a really large tree in the centre of a park. I was nothing but a little seed. But the heavens bestowed me with air, water, sunshine, and life. So I grow.

And I spread my branches to accept all the love.

I always looked upwards, towards the vast expanse of the enormous sky, because it never ceased to amaze me. In the summer season, it humbled me with the tremendous power of the sun as it policed the entire earth, while traversing the hemisphere. Now and then, the occasional silver lining makes me wonder if the sky is the greatest art of God. During the rainy season, black clouds merge in unison to shower me with piercing hard drops of rain. The heavens only play peek-a-boo as they hide behind the enormous black clouds, as their radiance makes its presence felt through small punctures in the clouds. In the autumn season, as my leaves begin to wither and die, it tries to lessen the pain by entertaining me with the many stories that the clouds have to tell. Tales of wise old kings, lost princesses and evil dragons keep me enchanted all throughout the day and bring happy dreams after dark. In the deep of savage cold winter nights, soft white flakes of snow suddenly emerge from within the profound black abyss of the sky and adorn our branches. There are very few things that can give you more inner happiness than the smiles of the little children who come out of their warm homes in the morning, and shake our branches to play with the snow accumulated on top of them. In the spring season, the clouds dance with the sun as Nature awakens from its winter sleep in the world below.

And I spread my branches to accept all the love.

Black smoke bellows from the factory chimney nearby. The smoke creates a small black cloud that looms over the factory premises. I ask the winds to blow it towards me. They agree, because they know why. I believe in destiny, and consider it my responsibility to purge the black air of all that is impure. I do the best that I can. But no sooner than I finish, more black clouds grow over the factory. The chimney never ceases to do its job, and neither do I.

And I spread my branches to accept all the love.

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