No one knows my troubles. Everyone loves roses. What did I do wrong to leave me like this? Everyone is driving me crazy.
What people used to like about me?. When I went to the temple in the morning, I was taken for the deity's puja. The women of your house needed me to anoint and oil their heads. Now all of you have killed my distant relatives. I am lucky to be alive.
But now, this new generation only allows me to grow in the courtyard of this old family home. In the past, when my grandmother was in the family, medicine, and oil were made from me. All the children who came when the grandmother died last month are going to turn this family home into a resort. Yesterday, a lorry filled with new flower pots and unknown plants arrived here. It was the wind that came from the south side of the palace that told me. He is the only one I have here to talk about. I smiled at the plant in the pot in the distance, but she was terribly serious,... the flowers didn't laugh either. I am trying to remember the name the wind said. They even sit in the living room of the big house. They seem to dislike the sun, rain, and light.
In the morning, I heard the sound of a car and looked up to see a yellow machine with a trunk like an elephant approaching me. Later, I was uprooted and thrown into the nearby river along with other debris. Despite this, I still held onto the hope of survival if I could settle down somewhere with a bit of soil. However, as I tried to take root in the soil, the rain and wind came, and the river water carried me away to a different place through a wild path.
I opened my eyes and looked around. No, I am not hurt. I am completely safe. This is a jungle. I don't know if I can live here without fearing anyone. It is good to try to root myself in this unknown jungle. In any case, even if I have to die in a country that sees me as crazy, I am not.
Or why should I go back? I think everyone in a country who has been likening me to madness and imagining me to be just a flower for the madman will feel at peace when I am gone.
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Soliloquy of an orphan. Nicely written. PKR
ReplyDeleteBeautiful article
ReplyDeleteA "touchingly" good piece --Murali, Kodungallur
ReplyDeleteBeautiful post -- Prasanna Menon
ReplyDeleteThe old order yields place to new order. Little wonder the beautiful and medicinal ‘Sembaruthi’ is thrown out for a croton!
ReplyDeleteπππ ' G' yude pankapageetham ormayulethunnu. Vayalarinte ganam " Soorykante, Surya kanthee'- yum .π-- PPR Pillai
ReplyDelete