Friday, April 10, 2009

kohl lined eyes

“Sequoia sempervirens – always green, always alive.
They’re (MBeere) an ancient East African tribe.
They believe that trees are imperfect men... eternally bemoaning their imprisonment – the roots that keep them stuck in one place.
But I've never seen a discontented tree.
Look at this one – the way its roots are gripping the ground.
I believe it really loves it.”

Men are imperfect…stuck to one place by virtue of a job, loved ones, family, friends… Man is his own prisoner. Ever so once in a while he gets to take another into the dungeons. That is accomplished by flattery, by genuine attraction, by anger, by disapproval, by grief, by love, by hatred, by affection, by desire, by succor. The one imprisoned thus, however is to blame. He gives in to the emotions of the other. Emotions that play on his own deadly sins, his weaknesses and his strengths which have now transformed into gargoyles of negativity. To break free one has to imbibe the statuesque nature of the trees. Or rather the acorn which is the entire potential of a giant oak, standing the test of generations, watching over whole villages that live it it’s shadow.

Perhaps trees love the earth so much that they intend to kill us in our sleep with all the carbon dioxide that they produce after sundown… Well, jokes apart, and aside the fact that I’m a bit rusty (after all, I write nearly after a year), I must confess that all I’ve seen in the course of the last couple of years is discontentment…discontentment among men to be more precise. And this process is further emphasized with the now-ongoing process of the right of choice. The land of skippers and princesses, the world of cops and robbers, the level playing field of bombs and guns: all pitted against each other in the crazy chess smorgasbord. Mate and check mate. Constant and ever changing!

Trees…eternally bemoaning their imprisonment…the roots that tie them to one place. Men eternally free to walk around, yet he who seeks a wife, a house, a family, some land, some money so that he may be shackled and tied down to one place. Perhaps society is just too scared of the free radicals; it would rather compartmentalize and put every one in the right pigeon hole, the right cubicle, the right honey comb.

And then people cut down trees!