Finding the blue trees

Introduction:

The story essentially revolves around a person , the mind and an alter ego .It is an attempt to deliberate upon the role played by each in a particular situation. The plot is not important here as much as the way in which they get together to make the end intersect the beginning.

The protagonist is a woman who sets out on a search for a free and unconventional contentment but her mind keeps racing back to a difficult promise that she had made . The alter ego is depicted by a undeterred woman who teaches children ..



Part I dwells on direct conversations between the woman and her mind. Her dilemma (planted by the mind) and decisions.
Part II conversations between the woman and her alter ego.


(I)

I couldn't have read more into those words than what you intended to say. With a pause of uncertainty, we had looked for certainties that never materialized.

'runaway with me' I said .But you wanted me to stay a bit longer .. 'where?' you laughed..
'to the place where the blue trees grow'..... “

You were always so cautions. The stick in the mud. I hated it when you planted those seeds of doubt. You tried to reason with me and stop me .
But how could I have understood then? Ah… I knew you'd say it ! Vicariously ? We know the trouble with that , I was wiser than anyone's advice .. for me , the reality lay in..you know .. 'that first hand experience '.. to an extent, it still does .

Sometimes, I wonder if it is possible to dismiss a simmer of nebulous probabilities, on account of somebody else's misfortune. Do those, who tread ever so carefully, carry a lighter load of humiliation?

Anyhow, I preferred to find the answers to the questions of life and simultaneously keep a safe distance from them, myself. There are moments, when the truth can be derived in theory but the reason often eludes us in the absence of empirical evidence. So we search for a more disentangled end.

It was then, as a result of deliberations borrowed from many sleepless nights when I packed my bags and left . Feeling the delicate drizzle on my face, I had set out to find a place somewhere out of there.

Places and faces kept me busy . Leaning against the wind, looking from that intoxicated state of mind , I didn’t complain about the prolonged stretch of time . But while the others rolled you reminded me that this wasn’t the satisfaction that had provoked me .Paying little attention to your uninvited cautions I moved on and worked my way through the fast lane. Gradually, like smoke from my cigarette you withdrew from me and refused to speak.

After years of traveling, on a jammed highway we met again .As I watched the fireworks up ahead in the distance , you reminded me calmly " The feeling sinks in slowly , doesn’t it?…it has taken its time, crept in slyly, unnoticed and at times stood still. You have been fooled .While the time stole your moments of introspection, you were filled with the feeling of ephemeral redemption from the prolonged confinement of your bottled frustration…

Now that the feeling has sublimed, you stare in the dark till the eyes become wide enough to see the stolen pieces being hurled back at you . In spite of seeing so clearly, you can hardly dodge them. They hit you with such surety."

Finally , perturbed by your insinuations, I drove back to where the road no more winds….



(II)

The school bell rang and children stormed out of the classrooms. I had been waiting outside her class for quite a while . Waiting in anticipation I wondered if she would be surprised to see me.

There she stood , straight and unbeaten , a few creases on her forehead to give evidence of the passed time. ' You seem to have taken your time ..'

The sweet sarcasm in her voice accused me . But the truth was no amount of time would have made any difference. I never had trouble lingering . My nagging mind had brought me here. She caught my predicament , she always seemed to understand, quicker and easier than others. As if she were a part of me.. " Come , it 's been long .You need to unwind "

Using paper and straw we made kites , the way we used to when we were young. As the kites soared higher , we laughed louder and our laughter rang across the fields…


" The children I teach..some remember what I tell them and let me identify with the person that I am .It's a scale of identity preservation and satisfaction. The trouble lies in getting attached to them " she spoke and smiled
" There was a child terminally ill and shunned by light. He drew pictures of the sun that shines up and bright. What I learnt when he quietly died one night , was that instead of taking away just a piece of me he had become a part of me” the strain in her eyes betrayed her calm .

All these years I had assumed the uniqueness of my dilemma .She had seemed stronger , at ease with her thoughts . Today I realised there had always been a tinge of restrain in her alacrity..

A pair of crows distracted us When we were kids we would chase them away , hurl sticks and stones at them . " go away ! what a ruckus you create! " I shouted after them

How I wanted to justify my plight. The anachronism of my emotions when I had suppressed the shy hope deep inside.

Sitting beside the stream I told her " the trouble with an infinite heart is that it has too big a capacity . It is just as easy to give pieces of it away as it is to confine distress within it .it mixes everything , gradually it ceases to judge and confuses the mind "

"I know why you came back" she cut me off . Guilt had revealed my intentions.

" i have to see him again . I don't know if this is where it will end , but all the time , at the back of my mind.. I have been waiting for this day working , laughing , talking…all the time . I know that all my questions and reasons have arisen because of this."

"you shouldn't have left him . everyday after you were gone he would draw pictures and keep them for you too see"
so i told her
"
everywhere I went the crowds seemed to get thin
the promise that i had made to the child on a whim
dawned upon and made me lonelier still
borrowed from the sleepless nights my worries made me wonder
if my child had somebody to tuck him tight in his slumber"

she shook her head and softly said
"
how do I tell you woman ,where have you been?
the lights have already flickered and become dim.
He was the child who had fallen ill"

in one stroke she had given it back to me. I held her hand and together we wept . As the wind over water made the current stronger , I watched the black birds play together on the tree with red flowers. The crows didn't bother me anymore . There was no reason to look anymore . I had found my blue trees…