The broken tree was admired and loved,
I worried there is nothing we could recover.
Tears were shed by the sky and people,
as if raindrops burnt down a human.
We were shattered and in utmost grief,
but maybe there was a new beginning.
The Bougainvillea tree
The bougainvillea and deodar love of my city was prominent and was honoured. A tree of deodar draped with his lover bougainvillea. I might sound cliche when I say that it was more of a thing to be worshipped.
So one day I saw a few people clicking pictures there, so my friend asked them which tree is it?
“It’s a bougainvillea tree” they smiled. Thinking we were nomads. I wanted to correct them but I didn’t. As for me “Radhakrishna” made no sense after being apart, as they together are a part of each other. Perhaps my soul wasn’t convinced uttering a single word. I said “Enjoy” as I saw that vibe coming to be, so deity that without letting out my knowledge I left.
They were beautifully bound and cherished. Every bit of them screamed love and fondness. Wishing that love in the city would remain the same everybody cherished them.
But together is a myth, my lord.
There is no eternal love without misery, they said. Though it’s kinda true. A dark stormy night, when the sky wasn’t in a pleasant mood. A rare love story had it’s incredibly awful, and a beautiful end.
They came concurrently to tell us what living “together” was. Unfortunate we couldn’t take a glimpse at them, because they left us on a rainy day. Besides, the weather and the downpour which slaughtered them, every person in the city went to see the tragic incident.
Left with no hope but sorrow, we saw it getting cut down into chunks. We looked closer and saw that the chunks were like pieces of gold. Gold which we conserved in our place like for a hundred of years. Nothing was left, but distress as something from our lives just perished one dreadful morning. Everything was missing from my homeland.
A couple of months later, I saw a new beginning. There was a plant growing in that barren place. All my happiness touched the sky, that took away our beloved. All those goosebumps carried devotion in them. Sentiments awaken, felt happening again.
Tears that made me believe that it’s all about a new beginning.
The deodar tree shall remain in our hearts forever, so will be the bougainvillea plant. A love story came to an end that day, who thought it will come to become a new beginning. A story we lived, a story that didn’t come to an end.
Maybe, our future generations will cherish another love tale. Till then let’s keep those crucial memories within our heart. Let those purple beautiful flowers be the colour of love for us. Deep down we know that it wasn’t the love that prevailed within the tree and plant but it is contained within us.