The library is about few minutes ‘walk away from my place, the path covered with shades of green and blue always elevate my sweet walks. Even when it’s dark, I would feel safe while holding words written seventy-five years ago which are still relevant to this suffocating world, the trees around would help me breath.

The view from my home is open and somedays allows me to dive into windless sunsets and helps me swim away from the storm underneath it.

Earlier between me and the same view stood a tall tree and I remember wondering as a kid how it would feel to climb the tallest tree I have ever seen.

Today I found my old dairy while cleaning my cupboard. I flipped through the pages and found a leaf in between.

I remember exactly why those pages were empty and this leaf rested between them.

One day I was coming home from the library and I saw few people around the same tree, cutting it down.

I saw the tree falling down to the ground in front of my eyes. I couldn’t move. In that moment my feet couldn’t bare the weight of my heavy heart. When the tree fell, a leaf flew togethers me and fell right next to my feet.

That day I couldn’t write in my journal, instead I kept the leaf in between the pages, I guess it was all too painful to put in words.

I kept the leaf at its place, and went to the window. I saw that right where the tree stood now lies a small yellow flower.

And something about that made me smile.

By Aastha Bisht