The Willow…

The withered old willow tree stared at the people at a distance in disgust. How he loathed them. Bloody selfish brats who never care for anyone but themselves, afraid of anything that they fail to fathom or of anything that reminds them of something bad. The old willow tree… The last of its kind in the park… and unfortunately the saddest and most terrifying of them all. It was the kind of tree that parents advised their children not to play near. The tree that should rightfully be at a cemetery, signifying the suffering of the dead buried there. Signifying the fact that everyone who once stood tall must crumble at the feet of time. Stood tall… Yes that withered tree once stood tall, lush green. It was its first spring. The time when birds made their nests and swings swung to and fro on its different branches. But then winter came… Everyone left… No one stayed to take care of the tree. No one came to ask the tree how it was… No one came to share even a smile with him. They were scared… Scared of the barren tree which without its leaves looked… ‘ugly’.  The tree which simply looked… SCARY. That spring every tree grew new leaves except the willow. It refused to grow anything for the selfish people who did nothing but to leech on its resources. The land under it slowly began to die and as years passed there the willow stood tall, lonely, scary and without any leaves what so ever except those which it grew in hope… hope that the people will come back, hope that they will not be scared of its naked form… hope that there was someone out there who cared… hope that the people will change. But no one changed. Each year the tree only grew approximately a branch full of leaves on a whole and each year it died a little more inside. Each year people grew more afraid.

The tree watched the cold winter wind blow all but one leaf away. “Hahahaha, afraid to kill me?” The tree asked in sarcasm but none was there to answer its query. It was then it saw him. He was walking towards the tree… unafraid… He was holding a book. He quietly came and sat under the barren tree, opened his book and started to read. “Pathetic human! How dare he…” the tree began thinking but that was when it saw his face. It was him… it was the same boy who almost daily used to come to the park with his friends. Never was he seen without them. Never was he seen without a cheery grin… Never without his arm around some friend. Where were they? “Maybe he is just passing his time till they get here.” The tree thought as it watched its first visitor in so many years sit and silently read from his book. A gush of cold wind blew and the temperature dropped a few more centigrade. The boy shivered with cold and coughing placed his hand on the trunk of the tree to compose himself. It was then when they connected… The tree could feel the pain, a pain more immense than that of its own. The pain that made the tree want to scream. He was alone as well… he was same as the tree… the tree finally had found someone who knew its pain but wait what was that… even though the boy also died inside he was smiling knowing he had touched the life of many and in some way made them happy. He didn’t care for his own self it was only the others that mattered. It was then that the tree truly learnt the meaning of selflessness and saw how prideful and selfish it had been. But it was too late… The winter wind blew the final blow of death and the tree finally died inside… only a piece of lumber standing tall was left… But before dying the tree broke its last leaf and made a request… it requested the cold wind to deliver that last leaf to the boy who taught him the error of his ways… the boy who taught him that the only thing that truly mattered was to make others happy. They say that the winter wind is a cruel and prideful mistress who never bows nor listens to anyone but her own. But that day even the mistress with a heart of ice felt obliged to honor the wish of the willow.


9 Responses to “The Willow…”

  1. Love it o.o

  2. so ur the boi… right??? XP

  3. @lvii… not really he is just another figment destined to be nothing but dust in the wind

  4. haha.. okie..

  5. great work.. as usual ^^

  6. Anas Shafqat Says:

    @ Waleed – It reminds me of some urdu story I read in childhood. But great work, nonetheless. Oddly, it seems story of your life.

  7. no it doesnt x.x 😛

  8. Anas Shafqat Says:

    It dces 😛 you resemble the willow :p

  9. oh really? and i reckon u are the man|?:P

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