This world is a maya,
An illusion,
A creation, magical,
To lure and entice
With pleasures,
suited for the mankind.
Stimuli that caresses in various ways
Provocations entice and endeavour to deviate.
Mind weaves dreams of comfort and ease.
Safety of a haven
We forever strive to achieve.
With our limited foresight,
Not knowing what lies ahead
We move along blindly;
Balancing ourselves,
Lured by the promises
The illusions, magnificent.
Then one day we reach the end
Unanticipated distress
When the obstacle is insurmountable
The pleasures of life
Have gnawed and chiseled away
The resolve to brave the odds.
Walking on a narrow strip,
one realises
There is no going back.
A tree in the parking lot
Of a commercial complex-
Lovely, flowering in spring,
Leaving a sprinkle of red petals occasionally,
When jostling playfully with the barmy winds,
On the driveway and
on the cars’ windscreens.
A beauty for sure
For nature lovers and
For the cuckoo which
Used its branches to perch and
sing persistent notes of melancholy
for the romantic hearts
at our workplace in the complex.
Then one day a storm raged and
A couple of large branches broke and fell
On a few cars parked in the driveway.
The poor tree had no way to prevent
The damage done to the cars.
Yet, it had to face the human wrath!
“The tree is a pest,an annoyance”, they cried!
“Occupying useless space, not worth at all!”
Forgotten was the beauty,
The benefits;
So much for human foresight!
The tree was cut down;
Chopped to the last inch
of the protruding trunk.
Now the cuckoo’s voice is never heard.
Nor do the sprinkle of sudden red
On the cars’ body
Enthrall the nature lovers.
Only some extra noise and fume
From some additional parked cars
And the ringing cash in the complex’s cash box.
