I lay there on the sidewalk just a little away from the curb, I look fresh enough to attract any damsel on this earth, I could end up in hands of a love struck fella of any corner of this earth , who is in a bid to woe a women of his dreams, or I could end up of just above the left ear of the graceful lady who leaves a few blocks away, or I could end up next to the photo frame of a old person hung on the blue wall of the room right above the tree I fell from.
I sometimes marvel at the prospects of my own future, and my friends call me an eternal optimist.
It’s was a lovely morning, the gentle breeze kept trying to knock on windows of people, as though inviting them for an early morning bliss. The loveliness lasted until the satanic side of the otherwise gentle wind decided to play its little trick on me. Luring me with a prospective freshness, swept me off my feet, making me fall with my just blossomed fresh petals. Life can change your path in just a sniff, I had heard many people walking below my tree tell this, I never thought I would fall for that sniff.
I had a reputation to live upto, I had to be the eternal optimist, well I wasn’t trying to be one, I really was an optimist. As the morning joggers began to jog along, with their ipods attached to their ears, I knew it was just matter of time, before I am in palms of one of the guys, or an object of admiration resting in the hairs of an young hazel eyed beauty. I might have fallen, but I still had my grace intact.
The young joggers seem to be in a bad mood of sorts today, none seem to be looking down, all seemed to have an unfinished business up above, they continued to jog with their head upwards. I never noticed this, did they always jog like this?, as if they have no business down below?, may be the old person who rested below my tree was right, they do learn a little late.
It was time for the old people who began their day with a painful walk around to the park. I sometimes pity them, after their long walk of restless days, now in their twilight, when they can hardly walk, they huff/puff around with a painful face, and even more painful knees. I was sure, the old lady with a slight hunch would spot me, and I would be the focus of her devotion, getting the pleasure to grace her deity. I was sure that the old man who would no longer spend money on materialistic means to spirituality like me, I was sure he would pick me up and take me home. The old lady seem to have an excessively painful knee today, still she did come for her morning ritual, her walk, she seem to walk past me with her eye fixed to her feet, may be I never get to see where eyes are focused, from my position on the tree. The old guy seems to have lost his eyesight in all those days spent providing. I realized one thing that moment, when I sit on my tree, amidst those supporting branches of mine, I hardly get the view of things which I was getting today down below.
My optimism, even though tainted a little, was still going strong, I knew its just a matter of time, and its still a long day to go.
[24 hours gone by]
Its that gentle breeze yet again, carrying a faint aroma of the baker down the street, the aroma of the freshly brewed coffee, coming from the neighboring kitchen, freshening me up.
I still lay on the sidewalk, I agree that some of my petals have darkened, and my fragrance seem to have lost a little, but today is a new day, and it’s a matter of few more minutes and my young joggers will be in just a bit time.
The topic over at skittles today is “flower”, Inspired by the book “my name is red”, here’s my attempt of trying something in first person narrative.