The Burning Tree

I saw her sitting under a banyan tree. Alone. Abandoned by her worshippers. Or maybe she asked them to leave her alone.

She was sitting on her swan, made of clay. I found myself immediately drawn to her. To her dishevelled appearance... it was almost as if she was taking a break from some hectic work. A hectic process of creation.

You'd notice that everything about her speaks of a certain maddening 'busy-ness'. She's too busy to notice that her swan has lost its colour. Or that her jewellery is all askew. Or that her hair needs combing. Or that her veena is missing from the top. I also like the empty cup behind her. It means much coffee has been consumed during this process of creation.

But no one has really seen her work. Except probably the trees. And in their appreciation they have dropped their leaves on and around her. Like a confetti shower.

She will probably also write on the leaves. Not with a pen but like a CD writer writes on CDs. Burns them. I like that usage… 'burning CDs'… sounds very fiery!

The trees around her will one day also turn into paper. They may also become instruments of music. Or furniture. And the knowledge that she has whispered to them will surface on them as words, music or the singing comfort of repose.

Saraswati, the busy goddess of wisdom. Seen here burning music for the cosmos!


  1. You and I so far away by miles, but yet pulled to the same place -- space, stars, trees. I too looked upon the banyan with much interst and wonder last week.

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