Page 17 - ECLAT 2023-2024

we too will sit in temples like men and try to find peace. The ego asks for money, because money is power. The

ego demands power. Parrot sigh.

But the tree said, 'No, I don't have money.'

"Then what shall I come to you?" I have to go where there is money. I need money. The boys answer

immediately.

That tree think a lot, and suggest– so you do one thing, pluck all my fruits and sell them and maybe you will

get money.

And the boy thought too. He went up and plucked all the fruit. Drop raw too. The branches were also broken,

the leaves were also torn. But the tree was very happy, very happy.

Love rejoices even when broken. The ego does not rejoice even after receiving it, and the boy didn't even

thank him when he went back. But it was thanked for accepting her love and taking her fruits and selling them

in the market. But then he didn't come for a long time. He had money and was trying to generate money from

the money. Maybe He forgot.

Years passed, and the tree grew sadder with each passing day, its once bright soul now fading away. Perhaps

the mighty tree didn't even notice its own downfall, but I witnessed how its surroundings were affected by its

sorrow. The once lively tree began to lose its former glory, its branches drooping and its leaves losing their

shine. The air around it seemed heavy with sadness, and the usual bird songs became quieter. It seemed like

the whole forest shared the tree's sadness, echoing its loneliness. But the life of that tree began to suffer.

Came, came! All his voices echoed.

After many days he came. The boy was now an adult. The tree said to him, "Come to me! Come into my

embrace! He said, ’leave this nonsense.’ These are things of childhood.

But the tree said, "Come, swing from my branches!" Dance! Come play with me.

Boy said, leave these useless things. I want to build a house. Can you provide a house? The tree said, "A

House?"

The parrot wondered, "Can a tree really give a house?" Without wasting a second, the tree suggested, "Maybe

if you use my branches, you could build one." And so, the man swiftly grabbed his axe and started cutting

branches of the tree! Yet the tree remained a stump, naked. But the tree was very happy. The Parrot

witnessed the heartbreaking scene that was a cruel act even with its limbs lost, the tree's love endured

through its suffering.

However, once his glorious status was demolish the cheerful birds that once singing on the branches also

vanished. It's obvious that no bird would sit on a bald trunk of a tree that cannot provide food or shelter for

them. The parrot, having no alternative, shifts to the nearby oak tree, ensuring he remained close enough to

his friend.

And many days passed. Then the boy, now grown into an old man, emerged from nearby, came and stood

near the tree. The tree asked, "What can I do for you?" You came back after a long time! He said, "What can I

do tell me?"

I have to go to a distant place to see the world.

The tree said, "If you cut me more, I will become a boat from this chunk of wood” And I will be very blessed to

be able to be your boat and take you to a distant land. But come back quickly and safely. I'll wait for you the

parrot already expected same thing.

He cut down the tree with a saw. Then he remained a small remnant.

The boy set out on a distant journey. And that stub also waited for him to come back.

After some years, I see that my old friend mumbling “he had not yet come!” And I'm filled with sadness,

worrying that the boat may have sunk, lost its way, or been left behind on a faraway shore. It might still be

afloat, but it hasn't found its way home yet! Is he is safe?

Now I have nothing to give, so even if I call, he will not come. I have nothing left to offer. Perhaps he won't

return. That was the last I heard his voice, after that, not a sound. Nor did I hear the familiar whispers of my

friend. I spent most of my time wondering nearby, Listening intently, but there was only silence. Is he...gone?

All that's left is the silent stump, a reminder of my friend's absence. Yet here I remain, the parrot, still waiting

for my friend's return.
Written By:

Rushikesh Shivraj dase

IT (TY)