Palash

Watching Palash outside my colony gate, I often wonder what if one day Palash decided to talk. Since I am a proclaimed narcissist, I often wonder what Palash would say about me. Palash has been a witness to many a scenes from my life. Palash has seen me:

Prance on days when I was excited to go to school;
Tensed when I was not too sure about the exam or how I was going to fare;
Wishfully daydreaming when reality did not promise a fairytale ending;
Crying when the road was rough and so was life;
Solemnly bidding goodbye to friends after a get-together;
Waiting impatiently for guests who were having a hard time finding the way to my house;
Hesitate when there was something on my mind but my guts betrayed me to come clean with my mom;
Sad when I missed my dad too much;
Excited and even a little proud of my achievements when I could not just wait to come home and share the news;
Safe in knowledge that home was near;
Stunned to see the beauty of the colors of its flowers in spring;
Numb when the pain could penetrate no more;
Looking stunning when going all dressed for various occasions;
Teary when I came back from my school farewell and the college farewell;
Thrilled when going for the first day of work;
Tired when I returned from the first day of my job;
Smiling from cheek to cheek on the day I got my first paycheck;
Burdened with shopping bags after blowing up my first salary;
Crossing my fingers and blushing after I was dropped home after my first date;
Reliving that happy moment once the relationship ended;
Stressed over work related problems;
Analyzing personal follies and relationships;
In a hurry when I am sure to miss the bus, but make sure to put in the effort in the hope of catching it anyway;
Strolling in the cool breeze, taking in the spring air;
Enjoying the nip in the wind;
Invigorating the fragrance of the earth after the mild shower that wets her;

These are just a few things that are a shared secret between me and my beautiful Palash. Palash gives me the first sign that spring has arrived. I lovingly call him Palash. The scientific world decided to name him Butea Frondosa. I hope the Palash tree outside my house never lets my secrets out and honours the unsigned bond of secrecy between us.