MY story may not seem very interesting to some of you but I am pouring my heart out — this is not just a story, it’s my life!

I was a tree but now just a piece of wood! I was born in a jungle somewhere in Kashmir. My life started over there with many friends (trees) around me. Those were the best days of my life, as I was able to watch the beautiful mountains and greenery all around me. I smiled when my leaves rustled in the wind.

Every spring and summer, my leaves used to get fresh and green due to rainfall. While during winter, I was covered in beautiful, white snow and I loved the crisp breeze and wonderful weather. I flourished and lived there for many, many years, but one sad day took me away from that place.

That day, I saw a large truck approaching me. It came nearer and nearer and finally stopped near me. Then a few woodcutters emerged and they seemed impressed by my size and my quality. I thought they were admiring me — they were, but for the wrong reason. They wanted to cut and kill me!

It was very painful and unbearable. I yelled at the men, “What are you doing? Stay away, leave me alone! Please stop this, it hurts so much!”

As they finished, I lay on the ground, helpless and motionless. A crane carried and put me in the truck and then it drove away, leaving behind my roots and my home. I was heartbroken. I wept, but the men didn’t seem to care. I thought my roots would forget me after some time as a new tree will grow.

I screamed, “Roots, will you forget me as I’m leaving you now?”

They replied, “No, we will miss you until our last breathe.”

Hearing this was a bit of consolation but I still cried at the thought of leaving them forever.

After some days, I was left in a place where furniture was made. It was very dark, and I felt so lonely although there were others like me, all were too sad and lifeless to offer some warmth to one another. Days went by and then it was my turn to be turned into furniture. I was cut and designed into a very beautiful bed and put on display in a shop. I was among the most expensive beds in the shop.

One day, a man and a woman purchased me. I was then placed in their daughter’s room. I was shocked to see the girl was very naughty and untidy. Her teeth were very dirty as she loved candies and had them in her mouth all the time; she threw the wrappers on the mattress carelessly, sometimes she would scratch me with a toy or sharp object. Her parents didn’t seem to care much. Every day, their servant cleaned me with a cloth. But the 13-years-old would mess around me and on me. She would arrange many parties with her friends and they would make me dirty.

Remembering my old forest days makes me cry, remembering the cold breeze, the rainfalls, snowfalls and the view of the valley, I weep almost every night. I really miss them.

Opinion

Editorial

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