Random Musings: Of Shrubs and Men

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A Squash1 vine is growing outside my bedroom window.Over the past week as I observe the vine grow,mentally marking the pace at which its height increases day by day I am reminded of O.Henry’s short story ‘The Last Leaf’ and the beautiful message it conveyed. The feeling of hopelessness that can sometimes latch on to our minds  and the the Ivy leaf that the universe sends our way to get us through the mental muddle of our own creation- ‘C’ste la vie’

 

The slow march of progress outside my bedroom window


This lockdown has certainly been difficult and the bouts of boredom, anxiety and full blown existential crisis I have experienced over the past few months have exposed glaring flaws in my own world view.Six months in I'm not sure what will peak first, the virus curve or my mental resilience.But just like little miss Johnsy who was all but ready to slip into the arms of pneumonia that last leaf has held on. For me that leaf came in the shape of close friends and family,random books, blogs and YouTube channels; all of which has  helped me through the dark phases of melancholy ,fear and anxiety.And now I have this gentle squash vine outside my bedroom window whose slow march of growth and progress is making me wax poetic once again.


The funny thing about reflective writing is perhaps the ease with which content can be found and yet the mental paralysis it brings with it.The ideas flow freely but putting your thoughts to words in a way which accurately reflects the inner workings of your mind is often a herculean task. Take this squash vine outside my bedroom window, a simple, seemingly inconsequential little creeper has sparked in my mind deep thoughts on philosophy, life and my own existence. It has begun to symbolise a spirit of hope, growth and quiet optimism in me as I lie down on my bed staring at it, lazing away the sunny summer afternoons. The ease with which the theme for this article came is amusing. It was literally growing outside my bedroom window.But I have sat on this piece for over a week now, a bit unusual for me as once inspiration strikes, I can finish the first draft in under an hour.My cousin( who is kind enough to edit my writing) then has to spend hours racking his brain, trying to fix typos and synthesize flow, saying nothing of the long winding and oftentimes confusing sentences my train of thought leads me to. Like the vine, progress has been slow on this piece, the words almost resisting to come out from my mind onto the pages.An almighty struggle between what my subconscious was feeling effortlessly but by conscious just couldn't put to words.


And so I have decided to embrace the struggle on this one, no need to grasp some great inner meaning and resounding conclusion. Not all stories need a definitive ending after all. For now I am content to see the vine grow and find new meanings in it every day.Or maybe the months of isolation are finally starting to get to me?

 

 

 

 

1.For the uninitiated, Squash, otherwise called a Chayote Shrub, is a popular and cheap vegetable sold across the local markets in Shillong and the surrounding hills (although most don’t really buy them as many households have it in their kitchen gardens; in any case its grows in plenty in the wild nearby).

 

 

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