This week, I have this really tall one for Becca’s Sunday Trees
the young uns
rustle and strain
eager to also
brush shoulders
with the sky
buffeted by winds
engulfed
in icy silence
bare branches
send a whisper
on a leaf
the sky
is just as far
from here
as from there
it is not about
how high you are
it is about how
deep you are.
This week for Becca’s Sunday Trees I bring one that has probably witnessed history that continues to hold significance today – from the precincts of the famous Chittor fort. I have previously shared several visuals from this place earlier as well but this particular tree overlooks the Sati sthal on one side and Jauhar kund on the other. I could not bear to take photos of the place where women burnt themselves along with the dead bodies of their husbands or jumped into it for fear of rape and slavery by plunderers and victors of wars.
Hark! She Speaks
I can tell you
tales of brave
helpless women
Sending off their men
to wage battles
of honor and pride
Fasting and praying
for his victory
and
his long life
They were but
One soul,
one body.
If he died, she would
burn with him
if he lost, it was Jauhar,
for her
and her children
As the spoils of war
it behooved her
to embrace death
to protect her
dignity and honor
and
save them
the dishonor
of failing to protecting her.
Times have changed
The world has progressed
They educate her
indulge her
pamper her and
cheer for her as she shatters
One glass ceiling after another
But under the sheen
lurks a beast
that seeks to
subjugate her with
attitudes and mentalities
that are passed off
as our culture and
sanskriti
All said and done
it is still her duty
to uphold their honor
And his right to defile hers
it is her duty to bear it silently
to shield their bestiality
so that they can continue to
hold up their heads in society
She is still blamed
and shamed
Be silent
Or be silenced
remains the
unsaid mantra
Since the beginning of time
they have
hacked my branches
stripped me bare
And with cruel knives
carved out love notes
on my body
over and over
again
but did I die?
Did I hide nakedness?
Did I hide my face?
Why do you?
Silent
unyielding
unflinching
unapologetic
existence
is my DNA
What is yours?
I missed Becca’s Sunday Trees but here I am on Tuesday. Have a wonderful day people!
Skipping along the dirt road
she stopped to
stare and ponder
Poor old tree
No respite
No escape
Imprisoned
Forever and ever
The tree swayed with gentle laughter
A single curled leaf
Twirled its way down upon her head
Little one
Not all journeys are without
If you would
but look within
The Peepal tree or the Ficus religiosa (sacred fig) is a common tree and I seem to see one no matter where I go. Except when I want to photograph one 😦
But this time I got lucky or rather created a bit with some mix and match 😉
Can you see the massive windblown and rather harassed looking tree in the background? That was taken just under 3 weeks ago.
And look at it now – it is as if it had never been bare.
I also managed to snap some lovely fresh colorful leaves growing at the roots of a massive dour staid Peepal 😀
And one more, simply because I couldn’t resist – purple leaves too! And to think I spent all my life around them. What on earth have I been doing all these years?!!!
Sometimes,
a cleansing wash
is not enough
and one must
shed the old
and
start anew
Hello! I am back – anyone miss me? Ah well neither did I – so there! 😉 I have been busy traveling and I did lots of shopping – tree shopping 😀 I saw scores of grand aging graceful and otherwise eye catching trees. But there’s one (or should I say two) that stand out among them all.
The outer tree is a deodar tree and the inside one is the jarul tree (Lagerstroemia speciosa giant crape-myrtle, Queen’s crape-myrtle, banabá plant for Philippines, or Pride of India). At least that is what a local guide told us. But I am not really convinced, especially about the deodar tree which grows in the Himalayan regions and has needle like leaves. Perhaps it is the sal tree? Do you recognize the trees? Ferdi? Anyone?
But these are technicalities and as the bard said what is in a name? Especially when there is so much to see, marvel and wonder over.
Can you see how the jarul split the mother tree? And that despite being split she continues to nurture her protege? Did you notice how the jarul tree was cut away from its base and roots but yet it continues to grow deriving nourishment, sustenance and support from the parent tree.
A marvelous example of nature’s beauty, tenacity, and capacity to survive against all odds isnt it?
Linked to Becca’s Sunday Trees
No one
can save
me
from you
not even
me
gn@r∠ed
kn§tty
b∂nt
straight
or
skewed
black white brown
or
green
this earth
belongs to all
like it or not
***
PS: In keeping with the spirit of the thought I tried to do different but wonder if I went overboard? Do let me know – thanks!
Linked to Becca’s Sunday Trees
stripped,
scarred,
battered,
embedded,
shackled
and
enchained
she may be
yet nothing
deters her
from
reaching
for the stars
Linked to Becca’s Sunday Trees – 6th anniversary!
Stern
&
unmoving
as
unyielding
&
standoffish
as a mountain.
Overall a loner
and a
snooty
curmudgeonly
grump.
So who could guess
that underneath
all that
bark
lay
someone
who
loved
a
bit of
fun
&
games
😀 😀 And another one too!
So which kite is your favorite?
Thanks for visiting 🙂
Linked to Becca’s Sunday Trees
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