For over a year, I have changed from my old morning coffee joint in front of the beach to another at the bottom of a hill. At one stretch of the way, between the road and the pavement, I had one day found a very tiny plant, more just a baby shoot, somehow sprung up from a minute little crack all by itself. I couldn't understand it. There's nothing green at all in the whole length of that street. Where did it come from? Doesn't a plant need a seed to start off it's life? A solitary plant sprung out from noting and nowhere!
I began observing it every single day on my way to the cafe, and on my return trip home. Sometimes I even say a little 'Hello'. It grows very slowly but steadily, and I felt so proud of it, struggling to survive against all odds with such determination. There had been a couple of weeks with absolutely not a drop of rain, so I carried a very small bottle of water to sprinkle on it. I could see it enjoying what I told it as a nice little bath. It swayed a little as if saying to me 'thank you'.
We, the lone plant and I, had become friends for the last 2-3 months. I wondered often why it didn't grow much taller, but at the same time I thought it's perhaps better, and safer, that it didn't. Otherwise it might draw attention and it might be trotted on by some careless people. The worst happened. The plant was not there any more today.
I stood on that same spot, couldn't move myself away for I don't know how long. There's no way I would have mistaken the location. I occasionally stopped there, though very briefly, mostly not at all, but I always seek it with my eyes and take note of what state my little plant was in. Yes, I had taken to think of it as mine. But it's gone.
No way it had actually 'gone'. I guess some children, or just one little child, too young and innocent to know the value of life and the pain of struggle for survival, had pulled it out and had just casually thrown it away, to dry up slowly in agonizing death. Perhaps this same child might one day become well aware of the meaning and value of life, and would find his own plant to look after and treasure.
I might be considered simple, naive or even stupid, to actually shed tears. But I am not ashamed to admit that today is a sad day for me. I will remember this little plant though I don't even know what type it is, or it's name. I shall not moan it's death after today, but think of it as my brave little plant which had enjoyed it's brief life, having made someone happy, and was admired and loved.
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