An Old Tree

“Shed your ego before you become an old tree”

An old tree in the park silently watches the shedding of leaves of other trees. It remembers the exhilarating time when it used to feel vainglorious after shedding its old grey leaves and replacing them with new green leaves.

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In its January it was ineffable, full of hubris, idyllic, fleek, and obdurate. It was Rasputin for all leaves.

Alas, now it is leafless, unchaperoned, and just a skeleton of its trunk. It remembers the time when it was neglectful of all its leaves. How overwhelmed it was with its youthfulness.

It always pines for springs but never afraid of autumns.

Now in its December, it is repugnant to both of them. Now it remains with Hobson’s choice. Seeing other trees repeating its mistakes, it is full of nonentity.

It wanted them to take cognizance of the value of leaves before they wear pantaloons of an old tree. It wanted to expound them that they all are in a cycle of destruction and construction, they are not permanent, and they might be having life longer than leaves but they are no immortal. We often feel at the helm of the world. We sometimes feel things are happening exclusively because of us. But it holds no water at the age in which life forces us to trudge. The time when these thoughts overpower our brain, we lose control. These feelings keep us at sixes and sevens with the people who care for us.

We should shed our egos instead of our leaves before the time we become an old tree.