The roots of the Banyan Tree

— Shivani Upadhyaya


As the morning light flows through my window and
The silhouette of my left hand fills the page I am currently writing,
I wonder why I am still sad.

It could be the ageing hands, the protruding veins, the permanently distorted vision; the distortion one owes to the years of inexperience one cannot express.
Yes. I say yes to myself, it is enough to survive.

To live your life daily
To not worry, to not suffer
To just… Survive
To not spend your time thinking about peace and rather to spend your time thinking about how the streetlamp lights up the roots of the beautiful Banyan tree.
It is enough to not think about depression and instead to think about how the roots of the Banyan tree carry a deeper meaning.
That instead of being scary, they are welcoming.
That they are mere roots hanging in search of water and that some light of ours has bought them into existence.
That they are more welcoming than most people are sometimes!

That you can name your depression “The roots of the Banyan Tree” and feel it’s warmth, it’s beauty, it’s glory, it’s resilience, it’s simplicity, it’s absurdity and still not get over it.

But, after all I realize that the roots of the Banyan tree are nothing but mere aerial props.
That they are just those extra hands the tree does not need.
That the tree survives, that the tree can move on.
That I can survive, that I can move on.


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