Stories hold meaning like no other thing to me. One reason being my unfaltering faith in them which developed at a tender age. As I grew, i found science contradicting the world of stories. I for example found that what was told to me as a weeping sky was actually rain and for that no angels needed to shed their tears. But just like an adamant kid I refused to give away to some of the stories which I held so dear, for whatever came out of grandpa's mouth in the form of stories formed my world.
I remember accompanying my grandpa for morning walks, he would keep me updating about the medicinal quality of plants as we walked past them and whenever we would pass a huge peepal tree, he would remark, "Child, this is a magic tree. It takes away our sorrows and fills our heart with hope" , and he would ask me to take deep breaths and would pass on his gentle smile while stroking my hair and would say, "Now you are going to be cheerful, the tree has blessed you". I would quickly thank the tree which almost seemed to my little eyes, a generous angle. Whenever I would pass the tree, I would remember my grandpa's words and instantly could feel my spirits rise.
Years later, it was during my vacations when I had come home to stay for a month. My grandpa could no longer walk that long a distance to reach that particular tree, so I thought of making my way to reach it. It was devastating to see a big stump replace that old dear tree of ours. I stood there transfixed unable to react. What I was told was, they had cut it to build an ugly looking building which stood tall with towering pride. I quietly went back home, my spirits low. My grandpa who was sitting at the courtyard signalled me to sit by him. I had made up my mind to never tell him about the tree but i found out he had already known it since long.
I almost broke down before him. He patted me gently and said, "Remember I told you, you are going to be blessed?" , to which I failed to fetch an answer. He gently raised his finger and pointed towards him saying, "I, my child went on to become the tree". I could almost hear his words ringing under my skin. Oh! how deeply he meant those words. These many years, he had stood tall never allowing any of his branch to snap. His roots had grown firmer and he had always blessed us with all his might.
And here I am retelling his story about the peepal tree,
A long, long time back there was a king who was never happy. He had everything that the world could hold but what seemed missing was his peace of mind. He drank medicines, consulted learned man but everything went in vain. One day as he was touring across his country, he could see a poor farmer planting saplings singing merry tunes. It was a sultry summer afternoon and the scorching heat was making it difficult for the king to keep calm. The king was shocked to see the indifferent attitude of the farmer towards the weather.
The king stopped on his way and enquired the farmer about the secret of his happiness. The farmer being a witty fellow knew about the sad ways of the king, so he very slyly framed a story which ran about him being blessed with a magic tree at his backyard which could heal weary hearts.
The king was intrigued and he wanted to visit the tree, the farmer guided him and pointed him towards a peepal tree adding that whoever took deep breaths underneath it would instantly be driven out of their sorrows and would be blessed. The king did as he was instructed, the cool shade of the tree and the gentle swaying breeze healed his saddened heart. His perspective towards life changed for he could see happiness in the sun tanned face of the farmer who knew what hope meant. He had watered his saplings day in and out in the scorching heat and never had once complained. This peepal tree was his inspiration, the way it held on to his branches undettered by change in seasons, made the farmer realise what hope meant.
The king came back relieved and pacified. He no longer kept to his sad ways. Wherever he went, he took saplings of this magic tree and wherever the tree found home, happiness came along in the form of blessings.
Thus is one of the stories which redefines the concept of magic for me. Whatever we do, if done with a pure heart and warm feelings can create magic. So sprinkle some magic while you can, won't you?
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