Of Roots And Rootless

​

I have seen the tree since it was a baby sapling planted by the municipal corporation. We have grown old together.

On the tree bloomed beautiful multi-coloured flowers. Red and yellow. The flowers smiled, surrounded by shiny green leaves.

Like a pretty but poor girl I often saw on my way to office. Along with her mother, she used to sell roasted peanuts in a street corner wearing threadbare clothes, which indicated a hand to mouth existence.

Unlike the tree.

The tree grew large and its branches threatened to penetrate my first floor window. I informed the municipality and had it cut down to size. But its trunk managed to keep standing where it had been planted. It had sent its roots deep down inside the pavement.

The pretty little girl who used to sell roasted peanuts on the street must have grown up too. Beyond her threadbare clothes.

Most probably, parts of her were chopped off as well. But, being rootless, she waits there no more.

​

 

Thank you Viswa. You understood the story as it was supposed to be understood. Yes love and compassion can win all battles, including economic battles as well. However, I don't think a story teller should be a problem solver. He stares at the world and then moves on. So long as the reader is able to see what the story teller had seen, as in your case in the fb above, the job is over. We need to move on to other stories. I remember in this connection an immortal dialogue from Zorba the Greek. Zorba asks his employer, "Why do people die, tell me that!" The employer, who is a poet and an author, answers, "I don't know." Zorba is mad to hear this answer. He retorts, "What's the use of all those damned books you read, if you don't know the answer to my question?" The employer answers, "They tell me about the agonies of men, who can't answer questions like yours."

Best regards.

oj

 

Please read the relevant part this way:

 

@Kamalji

Thanks Kamal. I know you would follow the story, if you found the time to read it.

oj

 

Dear Sri,

I don't know how to thank you enough for this fb. I like it most because you have been honestly critical of my writing. As you know, I am myself my biggest critic. Since I admire you as a writer and am fond of you as a close friend, I am truly happy by this development. IL has this system of not being particularly critical. It's only good criticism that helps people improve. Wonderful, most wonderful. Be mercilessly critical. That's what satisfies me most. You know that I am telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Of course, I must add that I am not impressed by critics who don't understand the story. You saw that it was not a story about a tree, but about a human being. The latter was the principal character and not the tree. You have clarified that humans matter less than trees. But I must also thank Viswa for accepting the allegory. It was a flash fiction that I wrote after almost a year.


Thanks again.

oj