Hi again :D
The very kind reviews of my first post from my dear friends have misled me to write again. I didn't believe I would return.
I have a beautiful window in my room. What makes a window beautiful is not the panes or the sill or the tapestry, but that what lies outside the window. You can see a pomegranate tree outside mine. And anyone who has been in my room can tell you that it is not just a pomegranate tree. It is The pomegranate tree. Of course, it does things and behaves like any other pomegranate tree- it has pretty green leaves, it bears bright red flowers which then turn into luscious red fruits. And that is perfectly normal. So what makes it The pomegranate tree? What makes it so special?
Well, nothing except my bias towards it.
I love that tree and so does each person that has seen that window. The room holds many beautiful pictures of beautiful people and beautiful places. But that window and that tree are the ones who get all the attention. The tree is full of life, songs, and refreshments. Birds come to it everyday, to eat, drink, and make merry. They don't sleep there. I think, the tree doesn't let them. It wants everyone to be wide awake, to know they have little time. The birds eat the fruit when the summer is on and eat the insects in the flowers for the rest of the year. That tree is where the squirrels make love and the turtle-dove rests its wings.
And if you are a bit of a poet and know that Hogwarts exists, you might even be able to see through the gaps between the branches. You can see an old man and his old wife helping each other to remember how they reached there, while desperately trying to remind their legs how to walk or stand or just be. They seem oblivious to the tree even when it's right next to them, but they are not. They are as aware of the pomegranate tree as the tree itself. But what can they do but take its help to remember how they reached there?
It would not surprise you to know that that window is how I don't get time to study. The wretched window!
The very kind reviews of my first post from my dear friends have misled me to write again. I didn't believe I would return.
I have a beautiful window in my room. What makes a window beautiful is not the panes or the sill or the tapestry, but that what lies outside the window. You can see a pomegranate tree outside mine. And anyone who has been in my room can tell you that it is not just a pomegranate tree. It is The pomegranate tree. Of course, it does things and behaves like any other pomegranate tree- it has pretty green leaves, it bears bright red flowers which then turn into luscious red fruits. And that is perfectly normal. So what makes it The pomegranate tree? What makes it so special?
Well, nothing except my bias towards it.
I love that tree and so does each person that has seen that window. The room holds many beautiful pictures of beautiful people and beautiful places. But that window and that tree are the ones who get all the attention. The tree is full of life, songs, and refreshments. Birds come to it everyday, to eat, drink, and make merry. They don't sleep there. I think, the tree doesn't let them. It wants everyone to be wide awake, to know they have little time. The birds eat the fruit when the summer is on and eat the insects in the flowers for the rest of the year. That tree is where the squirrels make love and the turtle-dove rests its wings.
And if you are a bit of a poet and know that Hogwarts exists, you might even be able to see through the gaps between the branches. You can see an old man and his old wife helping each other to remember how they reached there, while desperately trying to remind their legs how to walk or stand or just be. They seem oblivious to the tree even when it's right next to them, but they are not. They are as aware of the pomegranate tree as the tree itself. But what can they do but take its help to remember how they reached there?
It would not surprise you to know that that window is how I don't get time to study. The wretched window!
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