Seasons of Life

I recently visited an old friend of mine in Boston. He stood by me
during toughest of times. The sight of him brought great joy to me.
His abode was colourful and vibrant with great energy that could
crush every sad feeling in heart.

At the end of first day of my work-related trip, I rushed from my hotel to catch my friend and his abode in pixels. I wanted to visit him before it turns dark and cold. However, it was already half past six in the evening when i got to the T station. After switching a couple of T trains, I finally alighted at the stop close to his place. As I walked out of the station, I started to catch a glimpse of him and his friends. It was then I realised that it was winter and the sight of my friend's home was at once agonizing. When i finally approached him, the sight of him evoked feelings of grief and pain in me. Ironically, during this meeting I found our roles switched. He was gloomy and listness while I wore his usual self.

The story of our friendship goes this way..

I got my first internship which was also my first real job in life at Boston. I was then from a smaller city and the bright, bustling life at Boston was totally alien to me. I was happy that i was interning in a reputed research lab and was eager to work under a popular personality who was widely recognised as one of the promising innovators. This happy feeling of mine was however shortliving. The environment in my workplace was totally unfriendly with numerous restrictions that crippled my creativity. our head was literally a boss from hell. I could say that my experience was similiar to that of Anne Hathway in "The Devil wears prada". The long work hours, moody colleagues and discrimination made my life miserable. My work was indeed making me sick. My economic condition then gave me no other choice but endure it..

I yearned for a friend whom i could share my grief with. It was then during one of my routine rides in T , I met this guy who was very friendly. He talked to me as though he knew me for years. He also happened to be from my hometown. The talk eased me out and I quickly befriended this stranger, who also happened to stay
close to my residence. It did not take much time to realise the true intentions of this stranger. He was one of those home marketing guys who wanted my
help to sell his products. Adding to my grief, he was trying to convince me that my current job was trivial and pestered me to join his group of so called 'independent business owners. Annoyed by his "fast money making tales" , I really had a tough time in getting myself away from this nuisance.

My job and this guy really made my life a living hell. It was during one of these days on my way back from ISKCON temple, I stopped by the beautiful Boston Public Gardens located in the heart of the city. It was full of life with swans and geese moving around. As i walked through the gardens, I was embraced by this beautiful tree. He stood by the side of a pond. His branches were so long and ran low that some of them touched the water below. He reminded me of the grand old Banyan tree of my village. Sitting under the tree brought fond memories of my village. He had a green carpet knitted out of grass that invited visitors to sit aside him. I spent hours sitting there in his shade, watching the swans swim, walk , eat and the squirrels fight. The sounds of nature comforted me and relieved me off the stress. I enjoyed every moment on that day. I then started visiting him every weekend that followed and thus developed a strong friendship between us.

but today.., when I come to thank him, I find his state saddening..



He can neither talk nor hear, yet he still conveys a message to me. His silence shouts aloud and carries a message for those who listen to him. He can't walk but his sturdy posture reminds me to stand up and face adversities as he faces the seasons of his life.

"I am so proud of you my friend. I shall visit you again... but now, I part you saying..Your winter is sure to end.....Spring is not far behind" .