After the depressing winter has gone,there comes a promising spring, bringing with it the fragrance of vernal blooms. New tender leaves grow on older twigs...so we get a fresh look filled with grace. We grow with seasons.Spring goes, Rain comes. Rain goes giving ground to the Winter. And it goes on until we fall. I don't know how old I'm. Not too old and not too young perhaps. I always want to share my pride. The unspoken pride of a Tree, though it is of minuscule significance in this vast world. I always feel proud of what I have been through and what I am now. I just need someone who has a heart to hear my story. My story may sound a bit bland. Nevertheless it is a story worth listening. I want to share: How I felt when I first saw the Sun and felt the air and water when I was just a little shoot; How I withstood the anomalies of nature; How I felt when I first flowered. How it feels to stand against the scorching heat,lashing storm and freezing winter; How it feels to stand rooted to a single place. How I wept when my friends were chopped down; How I danced with the crooning wind in those harmonious evenings; How we always give or do something useful within our remit. How I waited for someone to share my story. It seems like a small list. But that is all I could express for the present with my little immature experience. Hmm....lets see who comes near to hear my story....Anyway the spring has just arrived. Time to bloom...
-By Viroti Somasekhar
