The Journey of the Oak and the Boy

"I heard there was a very old tree, isn't it?" The old parrot on the oak tree always hears these words from the mouths of people passing by. They are not wrong; there was a tree. And the parrot looked towards the remaining stump, now in a different direction, repeating to himself, “There was a tree”.
He recalls how its branches were spread out in the blue sky. When flowers bloomed on it, birds from far and wide came to enjoy their fragrance. I, too, came to this tree for the very same reasons. When fruits grew on it, even the gods would marvel. Its shadow, its outstretched hands, its standing form in the air was very beautiful against the sky. From my spot on the tree, I saw plenty for a Parrot.
A small child who used to play in the tree's shade every day, and the big tree fell in love with the little boy. The tree had no idea of its own size, unlike humans who are aware of their status. Thus, the tree fell in love. It’s the same love where an old man loves his grandchild. But in my eyes, that boy was an incarnation of ego. That's why I call him ego. I'm sure the tree would not be happy if it knew about my thoughts. Even that pure innocence can’t deceive my eyes. My experience in human society, from the time I was imprisoned in a parrot's cage, hanging at the door of humans, to my eventual escape and finding solace in this tree, have taught me that time will slowly kill that innocence.”
They say there is no one big or small for love. That tree fell in love with him but the branches of the tree were up, the child was small, so the tree would bend its branches down to him, so that he could pluck the fruit and pluck the flowers. Genuine Love is always willing to bow down. The branches of the tree would bend down when the child came playing! And when the child plucked its flowers, the tree was being very happy. Its soul would be filled with joy. Whenever love gives something, it becomes happy. Whenever the ego takes something, it becomes happy.
As time passed, the boy grew up. He would sometimes sleep in its shade, eat its fruits, wear a crown of its flowers, and declare himself the emperor of the forest. The winds blows and he sang. The tree was happy.
After some time, He also started climbing on top of the tree, swinging from its branches. He also rested on its branches, and the tree would be very happy. Love is blissful when love becomes a shadow for someone. The ego finds joy when it takes away one's shadow.
Eventually, as years passed by, the boy matured into a young, and as the days went on, he found himself confronted with the demands of adulthood. As he took on new tasks, he felt a strong desire to achieve more. He had to pass tests, he had to win friends. "Maybe it was during this time that the ambitions began to awaken within him" The parrot observed all of this, silently examining the nature of human desires and the consequences they bring. Indeed, as the saying goes, 'you suffer more in imagination than reality.'
I noticed a change in the boy's visits; he, who once came daily, now appeared less often. However, the tree patiently awaited his return, hoping that he would come. Its branches seemed to call, whispering, 'Come, come! But sometimes, the boy came, and sometimes he did not and the tree becomes sad. Love gets sad when it cannot share. When he can't give, he gets depressed.
Then the boy grew bigger and older, and the days of approaching the tree shortened as a man grows older, it becomes harder for him to prioritize love over ambition. The boy's ambitions kept growing. Some says it’s normal in that age. And it’s hard to deny that all humans go through that phase, they seek recognition and validation through their achievement.
Then one day when he was leaving from there, the tree said to him, 'Listen! His voice echoed in the wind. Why aren't you coming? I'm waiting for you!
The boy said, "What do you have that I should come?" I want money!
The parrot watching at the boy and wondered the ego always asks, "What is there that I should come to you?" The ego asks that if something happens, I should come. If there is nothing, there is no need to come. The ego is a purpose. If the purpose is fulfilled, then I will come! If there is no purpose, then what is the need to come?
The tree was shocked.
If I were in its place, I would have said, “You will come only if I can give you something? I don't have the money. This money is just man's invention; trees have not carried this disease.”The day we also have money, we too will sit in temples like men and try to find peace. The ego asks for money, because money is power. The ego demands power. Parrot sigh.
But the tree said, 'No, I don't have money.'
"Then what shall I come to you?" I have to go where there is money. I need money. The boys answer immediately.
That tree think a lot, and suggest – so you do one thing, pluck all my fruits and sell them and maybe you will get money.
And the boy thought too. He went up and plucked all the fruit. Drop raw too. The branches were also broken, the leaves were also torn. But the tree was very happy, very happy.
Love rejoices even when broken. The ego does not rejoice even after receiving it, and the boy didn't even thank him when he went back. But it was thanked for accepting her love and taking her fruits and selling them in the market. But then he didn't come for a long time. He had money and was trying to generate money from the money. Maybe He forgot.
Years passed, and the tree grew sadder with each passing day, its once bright soul now fading away. Perhaps the mighty tree didn't even notice its own downfall, but I witnessed how its surroundings were affected by its sorrow. The once lively tree began to lose its former glory, its branches drooping and its leaves losing their shine. The air around it seemed heavy with sadness, and the usual bird songs became quieter. It seemed like the whole forest shared the tree's sadness, echoing its loneliness. But the life of that tree began to suffer. Came, came! All his voices echoed.
After many days he came. The boy was now an adult. The tree said to him, "Come to me! Come into my embrace! He said, ’leave this nonsense.’ These are things of childhood.
But the tree said, "Come, swing from my branches!" Dance! Come play with me.
Boy said, leave these useless things. I want to build a house. Can you provide a house? The tree said, "A House?"
The parrot wondered, "Can a tree really give a house?" Without wasting a second, the tree suggested, "Maybe if you use my branches, you could build one." And so, the man swiftly grabbed his axe and started cutting branches of the tree! Yet the tree remained a stump, naked. But the tree was very happy. The Parrot witnessed the heartbreaking scene that was a cruel act even with its limbs lost, the tree's love endured through its suffering.
However, once his glorious status was demolish the cheerful birds that once singing on the branches also vanished. It's obvious that no bird would sit on a bald trunk of a tree that cannot provide food or shelter for them. The parrot, having no alternative, shifts to the nearby oak tree, ensuring he remained close enough to his friend.
And many days passed. Then the boy, now grown into an old man, emerged from nearby, came and stood near the tree. The tree asked, "What can I do for you?" You came back after a long time! He said, "What can I do tell me?"
I have to go to a distant place to see the world.
The tree said, "If you cut me more, I will become a boat from this chunk of wood” And I will be very blessed to be able to be your boat and take you to a distant land. But come back quickly and safely. I'll wait for you the parrot already expected same thing.
He cut down the tree with a saw. Then he remained a small remnant.
The boy set out on a distant journey. And that stub also waited for him to come back.
After some years, I see that my old friend mumbling “he had not yet come!” And I'm filled with sadness, worrying that the boat may have sunk, lost its way, or been left behind on a faraway shore. It might still be a float, but it hasn't found its way home yet! Is he is safe?
Now I have nothing to give, so even if I call, he will not come. I have nothing left to offer. Perhaps he won't return. That was the last I heard his voice, after that, not a sound. Nor did I hear the familiar whispers of my friend. I spent most of my time wondering nearby, Listening intently, but there was only silence. Is he...gone?
All that's left is the silent stump, a reminder of my friend's absence. Yet here I remain, the parrot, still waiting for my friend's return.

Chapter end