Paarth Madan

A medium to iterate on my own thoughts.

Falling Leaves

Posted at — Oct 16, 2020

I was walking through a tunnel.

A tunnel of trees, that is.

An enclosed passage where atop me were the extended arms of hugging trees. The sunlight of above seeped through the space in between the touching leaves.

With each step I took forward, the falling leaves took a step of their own.

The leaves fall slowly, for it’d take 6 or 7 of my steps for the slowly swaying leaf to make it’s way to the paved path below.

It seemed they had no rush to leave their home, and enter their final destination – the ground that is.

The green leaves had come of age, as told not by their change of height or deepening of their voice, rather, a shift in their hue.

The green leaves are deemed ready, when turned reddish. Yellow, orange, brown, and red, were the signs the leaves had grown up.

I suppose the tree life cycle is harsh – once you’re old, you’re out.

Maybe, however, it’s not harsh at all. Maybe the leaves want to leave their tree.

It’s interesting how we can attach a story, and a motif to any narrative, when then truth has no meaning at all.

The leaf fell down. That’s it.

It was I who immediately wanted to assign some meaning to this event that I observed.

That is the human way, I suppose. We observe all that happens in our life, but then, take it upon ourselves to also assign meaning to every thing.

I think it’s a characteristic I’m actively working on changing. I don’t see value in deriving meaning from an arbitrary event.

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