The Golden Cover…
18 April, 2007
Gold strewed on the Roads to…
When I started for the Institute early in the morning today, I was surprised to see the charcoal black road to NIT strewn with golden carpet. The golden coloured silky pine needles covered the road. It looked beautiful, breathtaking indeed. I stood mesmerized for a while admiring the different hues of the nature, all surpassing one another in charm and beauty. Then I suddenly realized that it is not everyday that we get to experience such a scene and then ran back to bring my camera to capture the beauty seen around! Whole of the surrounding was covered with dry golden pine needles that made it a heavenly sight. I could not imagine that all these pine needles had come from all those pine trees that surrounded us. If these were there, why didn’t I ever see them? Or had they shed all that they had? This could not be.
I looked at the Pine trees and was surprised to find them standing tall, erect and proud—shining in the dazzling glory of immaculate green pine needles! But the needles covering the surrounding had definitely come from the Pine trees. Why had I never noticed the Pine trees to carry such dead weight when I watched them from my window everyday! Had I been oblivious to the dead weight that they carried and appreciated only the flawless beauty and shine!Had it not been for the storm that we had last night the poor trees would have been carrying this entire load without ever grumbling. But the storm helped them shed all that was dead baggage and needed to be discarded.Don’t we, too, keep on carrying the dead baggage of emotions, hiding them brilliantly, under the cover of effervescent cover—a mask!
Do we, too, need a storm to get us rid of all that our soul keeps on carrying at the cost of its growth! A “second coming” preceded by a storm? I was filled with new emotions at this revelation. Walking on the golden colored dried pine needles I felt as if I was trotting upon what once-upon-a-time was bubbling and living entity. But see the irony—even during its last moments of life—the pine needles had given a joyous beautiful memory for us to behold. I knew that very soon the heaps of pine needles would be collected and burnt cruelly!
Paying my homage to what once was living and throbbing and what even in death looked glorious, I walked forward.
Is it not the way life goes on? The show must go on.