Hope.

It must’ve been a couple of months ago. I remember sitting at this desk and looking out of these glass doors in my balcony. As the dusk enveloped the earth, I could see the sky turn a lovely shade of orange through the branches of a mighty silver oak. Two gulmohars flanked his either side and more silver oaks stood majestically beside them. They waved their branches in response to a breeze from afar. The sky looked beautiful in the background with the silhouette of the silver oaks and gulmohars dancing in the foreground and little birds learning to fly, somehow trying to get home. The air was bursting with life. No TV, no display, no HD screen could ever recreate that scene. Humans think they can make anything with technology. Ever tried sitting amongst trees and breathing in the freshness? the sound of nature’s orchestra of trees, animals and life playing a beautiful composition of peace and tranquility.
No technology can create that.
We’re not smarter than everything around us. Just more destructive. It isn’t survival of the fittest if there is no competition to begin with.
One evening last month, the heavens opened up. It rained all night. The sound of rain accompanied by the occasional roar of thunder and brilliant flashes of lightning. It was beautiful until one of the silver oaks could take no more. The mighty giant leaned to one side. And then leaned some more. The next morning, a group gathered to see the old one almost fall on to the building. He was being held back by the branches of the gulmohar next to him. The group decided that it was time to bring him down. He posed a threat to the building, to our home.
Men armed with chain saws and axes, humans’ weapons against the forests that keep us alive, took their positions. They tied a rope around the leaning giant and tied the other end to the gulmohar on the other side. Even to kill a tree, they needed nature’s help. Within no time, one of them sawed half way through the gentle oak and slowly, with a painfully loud creek, the giant fell, being held back by the rope tied to him. The base, still stood firm in the ground. A memoir of the wonder who once stood there.
Today, as I sit at the same desk, looking out of the glass windows, I see the sky turn a lovely shade of orange, but without the playful branches of the silver oak, the magic is gone. As I look out, I see the barren sky. No birds, no branches, no life. As I look out, I see hopelessness. I see the future. I see the arrogance of humankind. We’re destroying the nature we’re meant to live with and rejoicing the life-less technological environment we’ve built. As I look out, I see no life.
But soon enough a gentle breeze blows and the Gulmohar reaches out with a waving branch, a helping hand. The rest of them wave in unison. The Gulmohars overlook the base where the silver oak once stood. In time, a little sapling will grow there and they’ll protect him even if we don’t. Maybe all isn’t lost yet. When one giant falls, in time, another will take his place. Maybe, there still is hope.

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