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Dying in the woods





























The glazing green leaves,
were glistening with pearl-like dew drops,
fresh from the abode,
on the apple tree.

The ripest fruits, found in town were found there,
They were the choicest children,
little, red, fresh and sweet.
And many other trees,
of the great woods were jealous of her beauty.

As she was rooted in the marshy woods,
sun kissed and moist as always,
she never feared of the coming days,
and she happily gifted away her children,
to make the people around her happy.
She relished in the beauty of the woods,
and nothing in the world could dim her smile away.

She shared herself with the chirpy sparrows,
and the tawny owl nested on her branches,
and many a time the colourful butterflies,
would fly to her and tickle her with love,
she loved to shade even the little yellow flowers,
which flourished with joy near her foot,
And the dark cloud in the blue sky,
would often shed his tears of joy,
Love-lorn and on seeing her thriving magnificently,
in the deep woods, every cloudy night!

But one day while it just felt like a life,
that would stay as blossoming as ever,
Beings that were often called humane,
crept into the hideous woods,
in desperate search for a healthy bark,
armed with mutinous sharp blades,
that could slice up the strongest tree with a jab.

As the unfaithful creatures neared her shade,
fear conquered her for the first time ever,
she silently whispered to the birds to fly away from her,
she warned the yellow flowers to hide in the grass,
beneath her foot.

As she stood there unmoving,
thinking of her happy days,
and of the dark cloud which shed his love for her,
She wanted to weep drearily,
And to shout aloud, to call for help,
She wanted to fly away like the birds,
and save her life somehow,
she felt like calling out to the cloud,
to come down and save her life,
but the cloud could never hear her,
she was a lonely tree now.


She shrinked her leaves and ripe fruits,
towards her, and prepared herself,
ready to face her silent end,
like a martyr reflecting courage,
and the strength of his country,
while dying in the battle field.

As she felt the wrenching pain,
on her huge bark,
happy memories clouded her thoughts,
As the sound of the jab on her trunk,
grew louder, she was gradually,
extinguished of all her strength,
and the vision of the shiny white stars,
embedded on the velvetty sky,
was her last fleeting sight.

She fell down to the ground with a huge thud,
and was dragged away to the town,
and wasn't seen in the woods forever.




Comments

  1. It's a very sad end to a magnificent life :-(. A grand tree, which spreads its shoulders to birds which come, chirp around and live, is a boon ...And to see it go, is really sad....

    I wish, humans stop seeing everything as a resource to be used, experience life in all, and give as much as they can, for a wonderful planet....

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Very true sir :) Thank you for reading :)

      Delete

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If you had missed the previous chapters of the story: Click here Chapter 1Chapter 2

CHAPTER 3


It was the fall again, they had gone for a stroll outside the university campus into the beautiful park where snowy trees surrounded the white spread and there were very few passers-by due to the freezing chill.
The two of them hovered around enjoying the beauty carpeted around them. Maureen had already gone down, working her gloved hands into the snowy layers. She started rolling a huge ice ball with a grin on her pink face. Steve looked at her dazed by the tinkle of her eyes and the jingle that her laughter spread in his heart.  The moist wind ruffled her blond hair, some of which fell onto her face like a wave onto the shores.
Steve just stood there with his hands folded, his lips curved into a mesmerizing smile and his eyebrows were arched in sheer amazement of what was happening to him that moment.   He felt…

Being humane

Every dawn dooms with wail


I never opine but in my daze,

For I am human, humane.

Image courtesy: Internet

To write is to dwell

FEBRUARY 15th, 2012





















What writing means to me...

As lonely as a cloud, as boring as boredom itself, I was. I grew up as a typical child at school but a very hefty one, I am still the same. I managed to cheer people with my innocence but did not manage to make happy friends to last a lifetime because of my gross physique. I couldn't play as I had no playmates at home and my only hobby was to sit and watch tv.

When I was studying in kindergarten, I used to visit a nearby shop with my dad. My dad was busy shopping for groceries and I engaged myself in observing things around me. The people who had mixed emotions that outshone on their faces, an old man cycling with a lot of strain, probably getting back home, the lady vendor with her dirty saree pinned up to her waist and squatting on the floor, selling vegetables, the autowala bargaining with his potential customer, the green trees which arched high with its countless leaves, the flowers that smile at me on the road side, happy child…