As I struggled with my sleepless eyes at night, I stared at the Banyan tree through the window, in our orchard.
It had stood there for over 90 years now: still, quiet and strong.
Years of hardships brought about by several seasons were embarked all over its trunk, but yet it was there – unflapped.
I doubted the sanctity of the phrase ‘when one thing ends, something else begins’, for certainly the Banyan tree
had withstood several seasons just to mark the beginning of another, but was it worthy to withstand all these
and become a satirical icon of what makes people have less faith in the ‘joy’ called life.
Zephyr cut through the humongous figure and tucked at the nodes of the wilted leaves, making them
loose their origin they had held through the difficult times. Swayed by the breeze few of them
landed on the floor of my room. I could no longer stay in bed, for nature had me, making me curious
in the strangest way ever. I needed my questions answered, cynicism washed – to give myself a chance
to ‘live’. And the strange figure standing outside was giving me all the right reasons to ponder upon
for the tides rising in my soul.
I grabbed my overcoat hanging on the cloth stand nearby, slipped into it and paced towards the window.
Holding the window panes, I rose on my toes and leaned against the wooden frame to be able to peek harder at the tree. I
was desperate to find anything which could defy my cynical ways, for I was exhausted of just ‘existing’. My pelvis started to ache,
and my arms could no longer bear the pain of being perpendicular to the body. Disappointed, I was about to withdraw myself
when my eyes caught the glimpse of minuscule bright green leaves on the stems waiting to bloom. My lips turned into
a curve and I found myself smiling. It felt as if a bucket of water had been poured on the pyre burning out for long.
I stepped towards my bed with a lighter heart than ever and tucked myself under the blanket, with the smile of course still there.
It was the most peaceful slumber she had since he left her.
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