Forty nine, that's the number of stroke of an axe.
The number of strokes it took for a man to cut a branch of the tree. It wasn't the first branch, and it wasn't the only tree. Behind it were, now visible, the grand structure of another modern age concrete castles.
This same city, two months back, was weeping for the want of shade. But, it okay now, I guess. It has rained. Winter is on her way. Everyone can chill, now. It's time to return to business. The business of showing-off, telling the world, how rich we people are. Trees, it appears, are considered as the most visible hindrances. So, chop-chop-chop.
Its a usual business here, being rich.
---
I have slowed down considerably. In terms of being a writer, a little remains. If it weren't for the Lord, the poet within too would have died. I thank the Lord everyday for listening to my unfurnished rhymes.
It's amazing how possessing money changes people. It's amazing what all things money can buy. In a world, where all affairs are considered to be 'for sell'; I guess, today is a business as usual.
--
I don't know, if anyone mourns for trees. But, I tell you - I did it.
--
I am sorry, if you were expecting poetry. My other blog's gone. So, I needed a place to rant. I thought, this would be a good replacement. I have heard, Google blogs can out-last their authors. I am in to test that theory.
--
Forty Nine. I counted every stroke. And, I tell you it wasn't only me who was counting. I hope, the Lord has counted it too.
The number of strokes it took for a man to cut a branch of the tree. It wasn't the first branch, and it wasn't the only tree. Behind it were, now visible, the grand structure of another modern age concrete castles.
This same city, two months back, was weeping for the want of shade. But, it okay now, I guess. It has rained. Winter is on her way. Everyone can chill, now. It's time to return to business. The business of showing-off, telling the world, how rich we people are. Trees, it appears, are considered as the most visible hindrances. So, chop-chop-chop.
Its a usual business here, being rich.
---
I have slowed down considerably. In terms of being a writer, a little remains. If it weren't for the Lord, the poet within too would have died. I thank the Lord everyday for listening to my unfurnished rhymes.
It's amazing how possessing money changes people. It's amazing what all things money can buy. In a world, where all affairs are considered to be 'for sell'; I guess, today is a business as usual.
--
I don't know, if anyone mourns for trees. But, I tell you - I did it.
--
I am sorry, if you were expecting poetry. My other blog's gone. So, I needed a place to rant. I thought, this would be a good replacement. I have heard, Google blogs can out-last their authors. I am in to test that theory.
--
Forty Nine. I counted every stroke. And, I tell you it wasn't only me who was counting. I hope, the Lord has counted it too.
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