At a first glance, she looked reticent for the inquisitive eyes of passersby. Her long brown and thick curly strands cover her elegantly from nape to feet leaving ample room for imagination. When I moved closer to her, she revealed her bare feet as one, two, three and so on until I lost track of the count. The finite number of them contained gentle crest and trough akin to waves in oceans. But they all looked sturdy as she remained unmoved and held her ground underneath the surface of earth.
The feets are not overburdened as her strong torso indicate that she had seen both gentle and battering winds, light and heavy thunderstorms and witnessed
many moons and stars to the glory of time. Her thick brown skin enveloping her torso are not smooth like moving dense clouds of the sky. She has hardened her skin with peels of new and old of them in different shades of brown arranged across her body in no particular theme. But she looked breathtakingly beautiful as she stood tall with a crown in different shades of green and brown. It is like a clusters of feathers in different hues of green and brown. She has embellished it with elongated strips in thick brown colour which swings along with feathers and sometimes misses the beat allowing it to strewn everywhere near her feet.
The feathers are in rhythm with seasons as she sheds some in spring, allows to mellow herself down during rains, stand in full strength during summers and take it slow during winters.
She looks calm from within and gives away shrills of laughter as and when breeze moved gently caressing its feathers and roared when winds touched it vigorously. She chanced upon the gaze of an onlooker on any other day of hers but it was indifferent from the rest. He moved his hands violently over torso for several days together. In the end, she fell apart from her multiple feets and left traces of torso to stay with it as she reassured herself that winds and breeze would come along looking for me to give their souls.
I wish she knew that last passerby was not her admirer but adamant to bring her down. I wish she waved her curly strands vigorously in tandem with feathers and shoved him away forever. So that she always get to show the glimpses of her beauty for many and many centuries, instead of regaling the tales of tamarind tree in the future.
(An ode to the last tamarind tree on this earth).
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