Writing on the Wall

First, it was a trickle.

Then the deluge started.

Men, women, children, old aged people, blacks, whites, men and women of all hues and cries and religion, came by cars, vans, ambulances, two-wheelers and some were even carried on the shoulders of their loved ones!

They were all gasping for breath!

They were desperate to breathe; because their body, heart and soul cried for oxygen, the life saver!

They had stored, I am told, that the precious life saver in tanks! But they ran out as the number of people desperate to live were consuming it and the production was limited.

But alas, there is a limitation to storage. I am given to understand that it was produced in large factories where very large machines with few men struggled day and night to make it in large quantities; but, there are too many humans consuming the nectar without realising how precious it was; never sparing a thought as to what would happen if it starts dwindling!

I was just lying there, dying. In a few moments, my life will come to an end. 

My limbs were separated; like me lots of my ilk were sprawling across the cities and towns.

But who cares?

You see, we don't appreciate anything that's available to us on the platter. However, when we don't get it when we desperately need it, perhaps, we then realise the value associated with it.

There were few of my well wishers who were desperately pleading on my behalf.

But their voices were drowned in the din created by the sound of and careless nexus of powers that be, politicians and people who wielded money and were ruthless; they didn't care for anything except making money and roaming on the roads in luxury cars!

My supporters were far and few; you see, from the young age lots of preaching take place around the world; reams of paper, manufactured by destroying the environment, are used to write and write to spread the message. 

Alas, the message remain only on paper. Never implemented practically.

I was happy to be doing the service for which I was created by the almighty. There I was standing for years struggling to support people around me, you may say, selflessly. 

I had very few relatives around me. There were very few and far. But, we, all stood and served without expecting anything in return.

Then, in the guise of development and progress – in reality it was just to make money – we were were targeted.

Now, in the aftermath of the destruction that followed, I see, lying on the side walk, the same persons and their families and children and dear and near ones, dying like moths circling the burning fires; perhaps, without realising the fire was created by the very same persons!

But, what can I do now?

I am just counting the last few moments of my own life!  

On my death bed, I only prey that sanity will prevail at least now.

Will they wake up and realise their folly and start a new way of life? I doubt.

As they say, human memory is so short that the lives lost by the pandemic and dearth of life saving oxygen all will be forgotten like the headlines of yesterday!

I know from experience, humans are the worst learners.

But, as they say, there will always be a silver lining to the dark cloud hovering above us.

Just before my limbs were separated, even as I fell to the footpath below, I saw a determined sibling of mine, a small green shoot emerging from the stubble of my trunk which was mercilessly cut off by a chain saw, trying to lift her head and break out on her own. 

She escaped the jaws of death whirring round her by a somehow!

May be a my sibling is too small and the amount of oxygen she releases is minuscule in quantity; but she is doing it selflessly for the very same humans who destroyed me, the large and old tree near that very large hospital where hundreds and thousands are gasping for?

You guessed it right, Oxygen!

Vruksho rakshati vrukshaha!!