Oblivion

Then  the tree began to speak.

Hello

I did not believe that it was the tree. Trees don’t talk. I thought it was the wind carrying voices from somewhere. Or perhaps it was some one I did not notice in the neighborhood.

I looked around. I was in a valley. Fields stretched to all sides ending in distant hills. It was noon; everything lay visible in the stunning tropical glare. A fierce sun was looking harshly down on the scene.

I was alone on the scene. There were mirages all round. But they couldn’t conceal anyone. Some of them may even have images of people for all that I know.

Mirages. They don’t talk.

But how can we tell? I thought bemusedly. They might. There could be auditory mirages as well. If so I was not fond of what it has to say to me.

I’d rather do without it.

If I was sure of anything I was sure of that.

I looked around once more. Everything was as before.

I was standing near a culvert by the side of the road in the shade of the tree. It was a small tree. But it provided some shade.

There was nobody around.

I am hearing voices in the head I concluded. It’s the loneliness; it’s the complete absence of people. I am going crack. I am hallucinating.

I heard a low laugh. Hairs in the back of my neck grew like magical trees and stood over me quivering. A shiver ran through me. The laugh came from behind. I was standing facing away from the tree.

Blisters and wounds….

I said angrily.

I could not look around. It was noon alright. There was enough light alright.

But eerie was eerie.

I called upon my mind to be steady.

You bloody Idiot, turn around and face your demon.

Was it my demon or was it some one else’s? Can’t tell. Can’t tell at all.

I am just a tree. It said

The hell you are. I thought. The hell you are.

We used to talk once, you see. We trees.

Ha ha I said to myself. That’s not very funny is it?

No. It said

I didn’t ask for your observations.

But there it is. It said.

God, why was I here? I intensely queried myself. Why was I here? One needs to have some purpose, to be somewhere like this. Why was I here?

Then I again saw the road stretching the entire length of the fields. It was an old road. It had wounds in it. Patches where the asphalt lay crumbled.

I said to myself. I am on a road near a culvert. I could be waiting for something. It could be for transportation. Yes that is it. I am waiting for a bus possibly.

I am waiting for a something. It had a consoling effect on me. I could have a purpose. I could not be lost. There might be a purpose here.

So there is.

It assented

Did I ask your opinion?

Yet there it is.

The tree seemed to have a limited vocabulary. I was not surprised. It’s a tree, trees shouldn’t have thoughts.

“There it is” is its principal view on things, looks like.

It’s not a bad view. It said.

Couldn’t be better. I roared inside. Couldn’t be better.

I deserve this. I was remiss in learning where I was. Something has obliterated my past. I am pinned to this moment with no memories.

Its amnesia

Selective or not.

You are lucky. It said. Memories weigh people down

I am not flying exactly am I?

How do you know that?

That was a trick question I knew.

You are bad. I said

It’s the memories. It said.

You are some tree I must say.

I am the world tree. It said.

Then I blacked out completely.