I wander around in my flip-flops
Wondering about the world
As I pass by people and places.
Wondering what was all of this
In the era of black and white.
Trying to Google it
Him, then and now
City, then and now.
I watch TV
Debates are everywhere
Switching from the religious to scientific
From historical to intellectual
I wonder whether either side is right.
I pick a book
Reading through its pages
Of what was and how
Who was and why
I wonder if anyone really knows anything.
I close the book
Pushing it in a drawer cabinet
I walk out of the room
Out of the house
Into the park with all the wilderness.
I look at the kids playing
The parents protecting kids from getting hurt
Aged, trying to stretch
Without getting a nerve pull
In the pursuit of healthy life.
I saunter among them
And soon diverge towards the empty area
Full of flowers and space
Where I am alone
With the trees.
Their old branches almost look wise
Shedding leaves and growing fruits
They seem to be the old vendor
Serving generations after generations
Smiling with gentle gestures.
God knows what they would tell!
History like never known before
People and places in different light.
World War I and World War II
The elopements and the conspiracies
Hidden secrets of our neighbors
Brutal side of reality
The one we all will refuse to believe.
What if they tell stories
About a world
With no Jesus
With no Krishna
Only humans, politicians, magicians…
What if they narrate
About the times when water spoke
Science was everyone’s, like language is?
That everyone talked about a different future
And we all have let our ancestors down?
What if the tree that sees me
Everyday sitting on a bench
Wondering vaguely at vague possibilities
Remembers what my great-great-great-great grandfather said
About me and I am nothing like that?
Looking at the tree
I feel the tree looking back at me
With stories from yesterdays
Observing the world around it unfold
In ways that was never presume.
It has seen worlds after worlds
Knows our best times and the worst
God knows what they would have said
Maybe that is why they chose not to speak
But, the leaves rustle.
They know we don’t understand.