Welcome to my stream of consciousness…

So, what did you shed today?

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So, what did you shed today? the tree asked the lynch mob.

The mob, a sundry bunch of identical faceless shadows, all grinned at once.

Letting out a collective guttural howl, they said, why tree, what do you care?

Hands still soaked red, and dripping from their latest kill, they said, here’s what we spilled…

You ask, what we shed? Why blood of course, don’t you know?

Why not shed the malice, the madness, the hate, instead? Why not live and let live, said the tree.

But with ignorance and dogma for parents, stupidity and aversion for siblings, aimlessness and hysteria for cousins, loathing and sickness for aunts and uncles, the lynch mob could neither see nor bear to hear another point of view…

You stand too tall, you talk too loud, the mob said to the tree.

How about we cut you to size, show you your place, it said. You’re way too shady for your own good. So green, it makes us sick. It’s just not right, where you stand or how you curve. It’s way too much how you have us waylaid. You better be gone…

With that, up sprang an axe, and down it went, then this way and that, till the tree was all but a heap of wood on mud.

But yet, there it stood. The roots firmly in place, it’s spirit in tact, all it’s wisdom still awaiting the touch of spring…

The lynch mob had as always, missed the woods for the trees. It rampaged on, headless, rudderless, until it reached the edge of a cliff, rolling off in one big rumble…

The tree, with time, grew back. A leaf, a tiny branch at a time. It still stands tall, asking passersby, what did you shed today?


Author: Elizabeth Jane

I am an India-based freelance journalist. When I'm not busy being a mum, I sometimes pick up the camera, cook up a little something in my head or the kitchen, potter around the plants, roll around with the dogs, ponder about things, pick on many others or stretch out on the yoga mat. At other times I like to document things in no particular order of significance...

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