A Fallen Leaf
Perhaps this is the last lap of my race. Mellowed and matured. I have reached my autumn and I am content to fold my wings and take rest. I simply observe the world around me.
Being a leaf on the verge of falling all associations connected with the word “fall” come rushing to my mind. History books tell us about the rise and fall of empires, dynasties and civilizations. Nothing can be more interesting than reading the stories of our ancestors.
What goes up must come down is the gravitational law of Nature learnt in physics. It needed a Newton to formulate the law.
The autumn season also known as Fall has a special charm for artists, poets and all creative minds. John Keats in his beautiful poem “The Human Seasons” says there are four seasons in the mind of man equivalent to the four seasons in Nature. Of man’s season of autumn he says
“…quiet coves
His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings
He furleth close; contented so to look
On mists in idleness – to let fair things
Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook.”
By nature I am loquacious. I have little patience for soulful activities like meditation or introspection or metaphysical insights. I would rather prefer talking to anyone about anything. Everything under the sun kindles my curiosity.
I possess strong likes and dislikes. People may call me prejudiced and perverse. I am least perturbed by such superficial, hasty judgements. My spirit is effervescent. My quick responses to countless sensitive issues draw as much admiration as censure.
Life is too short to worry about self-appointed critics. Pure pleasure it is to find like-minded people who think on the same wavelength. Judgemental people are best ignored just as barking dogs are. I wear my heart on the sleeve. I am frank and forthright in my opinions, desires and demands. The child in me is ebullient and easy to reach.
With my unchanged temperament, weathered only by old age, I have stood many a storm in my life. My dauntless spirit is waiting for the last storm to snuff me once and for all.
When I have no one to talk to I talk with myself. My reflections and recollections fall like cascades creating a cosy cocoon for me to grow in.
My friends come in all shapes and sizes. Everyone is special in their own way. Among the rare breed of my friends is one wise owl with whom I love to talk about anything and everything. Think of the devil and there he is!
“Hi, friend! Why do you look downcast?” greeted my friend the owl who perches near me every day to have a nice chat.
“Yes, dear! My heart feels heavy with what I observe from my stationary position. The utter lack of sense of values I see in today’s decadent society makes me wonder where the world is heading to!”
“Ah! I who fly far and wide see and hear far more wicked things!”
“Listening to people pausing under me I understand adultery and adulteration are prevalent everywhere!”
“There are far more shocking trends, my friend, like pharmaceutical scams and corporate atrocities!”
“I heard of them too. I shudder to see crime and evil becoming more sinister and sophisticated with the advance of science and technology.”
“You are absolutely right! Atom bombs are succeeded by bio weapons! And fanatic crusades of the Middle Ages have not ended at all!”
“True. Political parties with hidden agendas win elections and wreak havoc in the lives of common men.’
“Indeed, they do. Cutthroat competitions and unfair legislation make life stressful and unbearable!”
“Transparency is rare to find. Agreements and contracts come with dangerous terms and conditions in small print!”
My wise friend pointed out unrestricted use of plastic posing a serious threat to the planet’s ecosystem. Equally alarming is the trend of deforestation and depletion of natural resources to satisfy the greedy needs of man. Pollution and global warming are the horrible consequences of unplanned, nonstop inventions of luxury and comfort.
We both rued the absence of ethics in the noble professions of medicine and education. While lifestyle changes and fast food culture are paving the way for unheard of maladies longevity has caused a spurt in the population of senior citizens, most of them ailing and bedridden! Providing for the invalid, aged people is a growing concern throughout the world.
We both lamented the deep-rooted corruption and ruthless policies in all government departments. The tribe of selfless leaders has become extinct. This is the grim picture of the world today.
As we remained silent, saddened by thoughts of squalor and misery engulfing the masses slowly, the eastern sky turned orange. And my dear nocturnal friend flew away bidding a bond farewell to me.
I least realised it was the final goodbye to me. Neither did I know I witnessed the sunrise for the last time. Somehow the rising sun did not fail to cheer my heart with new hope. “Hope” said Alexander Pope,”springs eternal in human breast,”
Oh, my goodness! A mighty wind blows past me! And I have fallen on the ground! I gape in disbelief at the horizontal, brown branch of the tall, big tree to which I was attached till a second ago. A tender, small baby I was when I sprouted there long ago. A cute little beauty I was attracting the admiration of all.
I grew greener and more attractive as the days passed by. In the prime of youth I paraded my vigour with pomp and pride. After touching the peak of manhood began my downward trip. I lost my colour, my glamour and my power. The decline continued till I became shrivelled and brown. My grip on the branch grew weaker and weaker.
The boisterous wind at last severed me from my birthplace and hurled me on the heap of my brethren who had preceded me. A routine procedure I have been regularly watching all my life.
An unchanged process of birth, growth and death. I shall decay and unto dust return and turn into manure to nourish my parent tree to see birth of brand new tender leaves.
The descent from the height is not same for all the leaves. The gravity varies according to the hand that pulls them off. It could be a breeze, a gale, a storm, a hurricane or a tornado. The severe severing agents spare not even newborn shoots and tender leaves.
There is no rhyme or reason in the pattern of severing. Nothing is predictable. Mysterious are the ways of the Designer.
Lying on the teeming fertile earth I am able to hear its whispers that describe the strange stories of the past ages. Tales of valour and patriotism. Tales of love and treachery. Tales of greed and shame. Tales of bloodshed and glory. Tales of faith and sorcery. Tales of grace and cruelty.
The wheels have kept on moving on smooth and rugged roads alternately, never pausing.
I feel dazed. I lie in stupor. I know not whether I am awake or asleep. I see myself transformed into another being, transported to another world.
I see white clouds chasing each other in the blue sky. I see waves of azure sea curling towards sugary white sands. Crescent coves are bordered with palms, bamboos and mangrove trees.
Birds are heard chirping cheerily. Butterflies are seen fluttering over bushes of exotic blossoms. Bees are heard buzzing near the fruits and flowers.
Sparkling cascades and gurgling streams sang anthems of joy and mirth. Cherubic children are laughing with glee. Pretty lads and lasses are singing merrily and tapping their feet to sweet music.
Smell of freshly baked breads and cookies emanate from the chimneys of beautiful cottages. Pain and sorrow seem to have been exiled from the land. Supreme peace and joy reigned over the place.
Is this Utopia? I tried to shake off nightmares of gallows and guillotines from my head. I wanted to become blind to inhuman cruelties done by man to man. I pretended not to hear the painful cries of suffering from ailing, diseased people.
Enchanting story of a fallen leaf finding an eternity of ethereal bliss!
(My unsubmitted contest entry!)
