Stories From A Yellow Room

Saturday, February 7, 2009

Exerpt- From "The lives of the unknown"

For about 89 years the tree stood on the empty barren stretch of land, spreading out abundantly on all sides it rose up to almost touch the sky…It was one of those trees which would haunt you in a dream…It could also be the tree that could inspire an artist. It could be the tree where a solitary animal lost on deserted land rested under on a sunny sunny day…..
A thief was once hanged from the tree, he had accidentally killed a woman in the near by village…the villagers insisted that he be hanged there…and since then the tree was believed to have the thieves’ ghost.…it was the tree that grand-mothers made fables of…calling it the tree of gods or ghosts depending on the story they wished to tell…
The tree had had fed generations of red ants that were found in abundance in that georaphical location…birds’ nests were built on it too, the giant eagle, the tiny sparrow, the obsequious pegion had all rested on it.
The tree was dying now….it was old… last year a bad infection had diseased it…diseased the very roots that had held it through infernal heat and torrential rain. Its branches were drooping and the leaves had lost their lustre, this was sign of death…with nobody to tend to it, the tree would barely be able to survive the summer.
Then there would be no more of the tree. It would perish from the face of earth and the grandmothers would then talk of the tree that was and how the devil destroyed it.

1 comment:

Kanwar said...

The tree of "life"