Skip to main content

Pluck - If trees could talk...



This is a story of three friends Maple , Elma & Olivia.I am one of them.



One day the angels decided to go down to their favorite orchard and see how everyone was living their lives. They had been blessed with special powers to grant wishes.



There were three friends they were particularly keen on observing Maple, Elma and Olivia.



They had heard from the orchard that these were the best of the lot.



Maple wasn’t tall, she wasn’t the prettiest and no one quite took notice of her. She would stand in one corner all day long and watch the children play with many of her friends.



As time flew by she grew lonely and dejected, and felt she had no hope for the future. The summers were harsher than before, the winters were colder than ever, and she didn’t even quite enjoy the spring.




Just across the orchard, there was Elma. Tall beautiful, and magnificent. Every time she saw her, she grew even more depressed. Slowly, she began to lose her positivity about everything around her.The lilting rain she once loved had turned into nothing more than leeches and mud for her. She'd lost her friends, her acquaintances.



Seeing her so depressed, the angels swooped down and granted her a wish.



‘I want to be as tall as Elma’ she said.



‘Is that all?’ Are you sure?’. Asked the angels.



‘Yes I am’ Maple reaffirmed firmly.



Then the angels decided to pay a visit to Elma and see if she had any concerns.



‘I’m too tall, and often ostracized because of my height, I want to be like Maple, and be short and accessible, so that more people feel I am approachable and friendly. I am trapped in this perception.



Angels consulted with each other and decided to grant her the wish.



In third corner there was Olivia. She was quietly observing and thinking. The angels took notice and drifted towards her.


‘Olivia since Maple and Elma have been granted a wish, we are thinking if you had any?’ asked one of the angels.


‘Well I saw that, but I guess I am happy the way I am’


The angels looked surprised and asked again. Olivia nodded with the same answer.


‘Well then be happy, we will see you soon’ said the angels in unison and flew away.




Maple and Elma were ecstatic on their new found appearances and did not even notice each other’s change as they were so engrossed with themselves.


Olivia was the first to notice the oncoming storm. She shouted out to Elma and Maple but they wouldn’t listen. Olivia took protection firmly grounded herself and got ready to weather the storm.


Storm unleashed rain and thunder with strong winds. Elma being the tallest fell first. She could not weather the storm and finally fell to ground. Maple was short so she weathered the storm a bit better.


Olivia was the safest, she was ready for it and weathered it wonderfully well.



After the tumultuous night, sunrise showed the destruction all around. Olivia and Maple were the only ones left among all their friends. The orchard was looking like a blood strewn battlefield.


Seeing how lucky she’d been Maple laughed out loud. Hearing her laughter the scavengers nearby sensed that there could be something which would keep them busy for a while. Promptly, they


Reached the orchard and saw Maple laughing at her fortune. The scavengers saw this as a wonderful opportunity to catch her off-guard and took her away.


Olivia got saved as she stood quietly in the corner.


Many moons later, she went on to carry the man some people referred as Jesus.



~ Olivia.










Gyanban Thoughts - In this story, as is obvious Maple, Elma and Olivia are trees, Maple, Elm and Olive. Olivia is narrating the story.This fantasy fable is riveted around the basic premise of people being unhappy with what they have. We always want more or get into comparisons and want what others have.Little do we realize that along with the other side of the greenery, there are problems that come along too. Unfortunately our society is designed in such a way today that comparison brings out the worst in us and we chase that utopian existence.

There are instances where the cross which Jesus was crucified, was made out of Olive wood from the Olive tree.


The title Pluck means the quality of being brave and determined.




EkTitli.Org is a unique voluntary initiative where we showcase all the Positive and Constructive work happening in the ‘Green and Clean Space’.



Rustic Art is a brand of Organic, Natural & Handmade products in exotic fragrances. They are here to spread the ‘organic’ word.




GingerChai an online magazine brewed by passionate writers. Join,Let’s sip thoughts!


Comments

  1. beautiful as ever, simply narrated and yet so profound...Love the way your are, cause there is a reason why you have been made that way!!!

    ReplyDelete
  2. very true...
    i liked the ending co relation with jesus

    ReplyDelete
  3. This is a simple and predictable story but I'm quite glad I read it, in fact I feel, it's more a fable than a story.

    In today's day and age it's terribly easy to loose sight of what's real and what's not, the important can be termed unimportant with the latest trends. And we all know what goes down on grounds of modernism! But it is good to read, revisit and reaffirm one's own beliefs by writing, as you have here, these simple yet intangible thoughts.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Very well written. Fable is a genere not too many bloggers attempt. Nice to see you try this uncommon genre.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Hi Gyan, Couldn't have expected any lesser from you. Congrats. Looks like we posted our entries around the same time.

    ReplyDelete
  6. @The Speaking wood - indeed there is a reason why we are designed this way - it's just that some people realise and some dont. Thanks for reading.

    @Chetan - thanks - yea that was something i stumbled upon by chance while trying to research and tie the story together.

    @Sudeshna Thanks

    @SM - thanks

    @Richi - isnt fable also a story ? Thanks for your kind words.

    @The fool - Thanks - yes it is difficult to manufacture something which does not have a precedence.

    @Shail - Thank you and congrats to you too.

    ReplyDelete
  7. It's a beautiful story. very well written. Congrats :)

    ReplyDelete
  8. Hey Gyanban,

    Fable's usually come with a moralistic conclusion of sorts, a story does not necessarily need to have a moral/lesson per se :)

    Hope this helps.

    Cheers

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Say it only if you mean it -

Popular posts from this blog

Hidden

‘I need some rest, else I’ll be late for school.’ she said blurring.
‘The doctors are on their way’ he said. She stood motionless, staring blankly at the cameras, Volcanic debris had trapped her legs.Hidden below the ground, gangrene ate into her calves, as she faded.13 year old Omayra’s death was captured live.


Gyanban Thoughts - Nevado Del Ruiz volcano erupted on November 13,1985 which killed nearly 25,000 people in Armero, Columbia. Omayra could have escaped, but stopped to save her sibling from the oncoming volcanic lava. Her legs got trapped in the deris of her own home.When rescue teams arrived they realized that she could not be extracted without amputating her legs. She died with gangrene and hypothermia.She began hallucinating in her last moments. World news covered this episode..as they say saw Omayra die a slow painful death.For 3 days her pain and agony was captured by television crews but one photograph went on to capture the imagination of the world. Frank Fournier captu…

Catharsis

Hunger and shelter kill people.

Finding a place in the prime Borough is like finding a diamond in a coal mine. Mum used to say, learn to adjust, and you will find what you want. After all, these little adjustments, are a part of the fucking parcel of life. Huh. 

It would be exactly nine months on the first of April since I moved into the plush Toccata penthouse. It had soft caramel undertones on the walls and the Renoir’s, one on each side, caught my gaze on the first day. Instinctively, I knew, it was the house I wanted. As the landlady walked ahead of me, notes of coffee, pink pepper, cedar, and cinnamon oozed from her swaying hips, sucking me into a deep hallucinogenic state. Fuck me. 

I couldn’t bungle this one up, unlike the previous eight houses. Terrible, they were. “No late-night partying or substances, pills, injections, powders, got it?” She said breaking my gaze. Yes, she had the vocabulary. I am the shy type, so I lowered my head and nodded gently but my head was still spinni…

Mismatch

It's 5AM and the clock is late,
the rush to dress up and change my fate,
but the wrinkle is annoying the mane,
and the greys are flaying the vein,
I carry the mirror in mind,
leave the resigned sigh behind.

The train is packed with eyes,
I stand under the strain of lights
the dark skin is brighter,
maybe they'll like me better,
their shampoos leave no clue,
only the fan comes to my rescue.

Waiting for the elevator,
a minty breath drifts over the shoulder,
the noose around my neck chokes
gasps for breath and the heart pokes
the lights are incandescent inside
empty faces on the outside.

The tube-light and the guard flickers
People wearing strange monikers
floating close to the floor
a door opens, the stupor
he sashays along leaving them behind,
my eyes lose him and hope to find.


Clocks go by and the hours shiver
the cardigan shrugs off and the  lips quiver
a sudden surge of reason, cold air ,
aimlessly slides off my ruffled hair
witness  to the porcelain teapot stare,
bits an…