As I lay on the sofa, lazing on a blazing hot Sunday morning, I realized its been a while since I let my mind wander and revel in its imaginary sojourns. And much to my bewilderment, the same tree near the window that I would've looked at a thousand times before, casually and with no interest, suddenly found a life of its own and a beauty that's almost surreal. Rooted in its place for years together, it still seems to express a happy and positive sense of its being in every one of its movements, almost waiting to catch the smallest of winds and break into a long trance like dance. Its surprising though that every leaf and every branch seemed to sway to a different music, inaudible to the unlucky audience like me. But, as I look at the tree as a whole, I still find a rhythm, a harmony that resonates with that elusive balance in life I have forever longed for. The long silver backed leaves, hanging loose on thin twiggy branches, pointing downwards towards mother earth, perhaps reluctantly so and with resignation that they too have an end to their happiness and they must then make that one last journey from the branch, falling to decay, completing the inevitable circle of nature. Even the dead leaf in its final journey strives to catch that whiff of a wind and is so full of grace that for a curious onlooker like me, it almost seems like flying. For the moment though, there's so much life in the leaves that they manage to be playful with the all encompassing sunbeams. Oscillating like a million pendulums, each keeping a different time, the silver backs' teasing interplay with a hot mid-summer morning's golden glow creates an illusion of a million mirrors to me, reflecting all the faces that I knew in my life, some happy, some sad, some faces that I hoped I'd never see again and some that I love to have in front of me forever. Now here, now there and now nowhere. The one face though, that seemed to linger for longer than a while, almost mocking at me with that dreaded, all too familiar nonchalance, was my own. While I reflect at my reflections, oftentimes, I now remember of the past, the tree reminded me of my own claustrophobic self, rooted, yearning to fly but with an unfortunate wisdom that my roots are my source of life. Today though, I see new life in the same tree....rooted still but having learned to fly despite being chained. I wish and I hope I am seeing a reflection of myself in that tree and I hope at least my reflection has found that elusive balance between the desire to be somewhere else while still being faithful to my roots...
