by Rubina Malhotra
I’ve stood here for a while now—
Been privy to many historical events;
Allow me to share a few glimpses—
A window into the lives
Of the people of my city.
One time, a boy named Raju,
Was scared of getting a tattoo;
So he carved ‘Raju loves Mona’
On my trunk instead;
Without my consent.
At first, I huffed and puffed
Beat my branches in protest;
But when I saw Mona smile,
I forgave the young lover,
For all is forgiven in the name of love.
But then came Raja, and Sonu and Janu,
And I raised my arms in despair,
As the names turned less dramatic,
More generic.
I have seen lovers so many
Who use me as a shield
To profess their love,
Rather vociferously.
The shrubbery
Which grows around me
Bends and turns mischievously
And betrays the trust
The lovers bestow upon me.
Now, all my birds and bees
Who live on or around me
Would agree when I say,
Nothing is more joyous and gay
Than to see a couple reunite
After they had gone astray.
For I have seen men and women alike,
Run in circles day and night—
Trying to find
Or chance upon
The love that they thought they’d lost.
I have seen them prepare notes,
Rehearse lines with the bougainvillaea sometimes—
That they are willing to leave the past behind
And start afresh, for they haven’t found
what they had gone searching for
And realised that
They didn’t have to look elsewhere
to find the love they thought
was eluding them all this while.
I’ve seen many who had come alone
To wallow, or to seek solitude,
now coming with their progeny.
There are some with their sketchbooks
Who’ve taken nature as their muse
And spend hours, trying to get
The texture of the leaves right,
Only to come the next day
To see that the leaves have changed—
Some withered, some dead,
The old replaced by new;
Some swept away by the wind,
Others mixed with the dust,
Befriending the roots.
I stand in the privileged part of the town
Not fallen yet, though my years I count
As I watch the seasons change,
The generations change—
From letters read
Under the soft yellow light of dusk
To the blue ticks of WhatsApp texts
Gleaming like glow-worms,
I see history repeat itself.
Picture from https://www.flickr.com/photos/imranpicks/ under CC license
