LIFE OF A TREE

I'm mossed all over my trunk. But still I've so many branches to offer the tired travellers a comfortable and cool shade at noon. My friends across the world, and I give humanity some of the vital amenities that make life possible on Earth - oxygen, foods, medicines atc. We serve them without expectations and sacrifice our everything to support them.
I was born from a seed and remained low in the ground for some days. Then I opened my eyes and was greeted by the Sun during spring - that time of the year when the air is fresh, delicately romantic and a pleasure to breathe. The word seemed very beautiful, I was never tired of looking at sunny nature. I stood on my feet. I played hide and seek with Sunrays and moon beams. What joy and merriment! Merriment is the sunny side of any existence. Isn't it? Gradually, I attained maturity, and rooted deep in the ground.
I stood as a silent witness of varied spectacles. It was an afternoon, some children played under the careful protection of my big arms. I saw a funeral procession passing by me, they were praying for the external bliss of the departed soul, tears were rolling down the cheeks of the men in the procession. Wailings of women were heart-rending. I sighed. I meditated and realised that the cycle of birth and death, going the ages, is a plan of God. I'm also a theist. I also desire to live with God after death, where I'll find eternal peace. I also saw so many wedding processions, processions of pilgrims passing by me or taking rest for sometimes, I felt interested interested in worldly affairs. In dark nights,dacoits and gangsters assembled beneath my branches. I listened intently to their hushed voice. They resolved to murder a man and decamp with a booty. I shuddered with fear. But I had no power to resist them or to disrupt their cruel plan.
On the first day of the year, a fair is held in an open place around me. It continues for a fortnight. A huge crowd of people come here from distant places. Some are so very insensitive, they inflict deep wounds on my gnarled body, they drive big nails to pitch tents. I silently cry in pain. Still I never protest, and I try and render much help to all . Birds build their nests on my branches, the chirping of birds gladdens my heart.
I've grown very old and lost my youthful vigour and strength. One day some cruel people chopped off a good many number of my branches. But I couldn't say anything and continued to bleed profusely from the wounds. However, I've seen a great deal of men and their manners, they've enriched my knowledge. Everybody around me respects me for my wisdom and I'm afraid of none but violent storms. I've been withstanding their mighty onslaughts for many years. But now, I think my days are numbered. I'll accept death with a spirit of calm resignation to God who once brought me in this world. Like the human beings I'm also mortal. Thus, I shouldn't lament, rather I feel glad, remembering my glorious past.