When I looked out of the window of my shabby quarter my mood changed. The shadow of loneliness that had been trailing me in every alley of the building seemed to have lost its way around some corner. And without its company, I belonged to the world again. It was then that I first noticed the towering banyan tree in the lawn. Its sturdy trunk, exuding its experience and wisdom. How old it must be... how many stories must have unfolded before it? Does it, in solitude, ever reminisce some of them? It must be, I thought; with its roots dropping down from the branches, searching for something lost. Just like my grandmother’s hand, fumbling the ground for her fallen glasses. Just like me, searching my way back..
well this is the bright side of being stationed in no man's land..creative juices overflowing :)
ReplyDeleteSolitude can be a man's best friend sometimes, or a woman's, as it gives the opportunity to spend time with oneself. No stupid hasty decisions, no free flow of emotions, just lying back and thinking what did we lose and was it really worth having...
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