Sunday, October 9, 2016

“When I die, plant a tree and put my name on it” she said.

“Who’d let me do it?” He asked

“Then do it without putting my name on it” she insisted.

“Where will I plant it? I don’t own a piece of land. I wouldn’t want to put it in someone else’s yard”. He reasoned.

She was silent. She knew what it meant. Their lives were spent tending saplings for others and raising respective trees in curtilages that did not belong to either of them.

“Yeah, forget it. It’s a useless conversation. No one knows who’d die first?” She tried to change the subject and shrug the conversation off with a feeble smile.

“Hmmm” he acknowledged the end of the discussion and took another sip of the coffee. Their fortnightly rendezvous was nearing its allocated time.

They packed up shortly after and went back to their respective abodes.

Years went by and it was she who got the news of his betrayal. He went before her. The messenger also read out something she had not expected. He had requested for a burial instead of a cremation, contrary to the faith he lived by during his lifetime.

When she visited the grave, there were more surprises.

The grave stood on its own small plot and there was a humble plant, a mahua next to it.

The tombstone read “I found the land, will look for some sky now”

016


5 comments :

How do we know said...

Oh god this is awesome!! More power to the writer in u !

Himanshu Tandon said...

Thank you for all your kind words HDWK. I am glad you like it.

The Cloudcutter said...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nX1VeFBo9AQ

Anonymous said...

What if 'she' goes before you??? :)

Himanshu Tandon said...

Dear Anonymous,

The tree would have been planted nonetheless.

HT

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