The Birch Tree

She sat by the window, staring into space. Several minutes passed by. Then she slowly raised her palm into the sunlight and took a good look at her gradually but surely withering hands, following every weather-beaten line and wrinkle with her eyes. Her face still radiated strength and confidence. But her body refused to cooperate now. The old woman did not have much strength in her legs to get up and walk till the kitchen or the bathroom. Her big, tired eyes looked droopy and distant.

“Ma, the nurse has come to get you ready for the day. Please co-operate with her,” she heard her daughter-in-law say. She always cooperated. When had she ever not! She chose not to say anything and continued to stare outside.
A small boy had come out from one of the buildings. He was searching for something among the bushes. Must be the ball they use to play with. Those boys used to play cricket all the time before. Nowadays they were hardly seen outside, constantly hooked on that remote and the television set. God only knows what kind of fun that was! No running around, no hide-and-seek, no climbing trees…
She recalled her youthful days. When she was young, even at the age of eighteen or nineteen, she used to run around with her friends and siblings, playing on the fields and roads. That used to be the simplest kind of fun!

She sighed. Life does not remain as simple forever. That is the biggest irony. That was the era of the black and whites, where everything was in just two colours. Today the world is full of high definition gradients. But why is it then that the world is not as vibrant and beautiful?
The boy must have found what he was looking for. He straightened up and walked back into the building. The old woman tried to see what was in his hand. Looked like something bigger than a ball. Oh, but her eyes had grown so weak and sensitive. She could not make out what it was even after squinting.
She shifted her focus back to the stub right across the building. There used to be a beautiful birch tree here, tall, regal and quaint. She used to stand at this window and keep looking at it merrily swaying in the wind. When she had first learnt how to use a camera she had hopped around excited, like a joyous school child. And that birch tree had been her first subject. Her husband had subtly chided her for not taking shots of human beings and the dear ones, of him and the children. She did not want to tell him, this tree was what she loved the most. And it had always loved her back, silently, gently as it swayed in the breeze and smiled at her.

She felt a gentle tug from behind. The nurse had come. The old woman was fond of this girl. Beautiful golden hair and pleasant eyes, she remembered the day she had confided in her something quite amusing… or so she felt at the time.
Initially, when she had joined as her nurse and attendant, she used to remain quiet and attentive at all times. The old woman preferred it that way, too much interaction was not her forte. One day when she got a little chatty, she asked the girl about herself and the girl transformed into a completely different person. “I am a huge, huge fan of yours,” she gushed. She went on to talk about her humble past. She admitted that she has read all of her works. When she saw the advertisement for this post, she immediately applied for it and got through. Then she added sheepishly, “I have seen you on covers of your books and on Tv. I have had a girl crush on you ever since.”
The old woman’s amusement knew no bounds. She was spellbound for some time before she could gather herself back together. Once she felt she has found her voice, she said she was humbled by the amount of affection the girl has been harbouring for her. Presently she was quite old and unfortunately not inclined towards women that way. To her surprise, the nurse giggled and said, she had no such intentions herself and she was talking about a moment of the past.
Quite relieved, she asked the nurse why was she still serving her then. She could do something more interesting than serve an old worn-out woman. She had thought for a moment before replying, “It is perhaps because I am being selfish. I expect to learn a lot from you and talk about various things. I want to know and understand your mind from up close, the mind that has created such wonders and has stirred up something deep inside me. I wish to pick your mind.” And all of this she confessed with such subtle honesty, the old woman was quite moved.
Since then, the girl had been her constant companion, reading to her, talking and sharing insights and experiences, while the old woman advised and guided her.

Today, the old woman was quite lost in her thoughts. The girl understood that and silently went about her chores. She did not disturb her. While leaving, she quietly pecked her cheek and closed the door behind her. The old woman kept staring at the stub of the bygone birch tree.