Have you ever seen the leaves falling off a branch? Yeah, that happens mostly in the Autumn season. But there are other times too when trees shed their leaves; at times leaving their branches bare and naked. Why does the tree need to do this before the particular season assigned for this task?
Why does it have to remove all its accessories and leave itself vulnerable to the atrocities of the society and the world?
This is what real detachment is.
You do not even know when and how that happens. And then, one fine day, you wake up, only to realize that nothing other than you is important.
The girl next door, who used to be your soulmate in all your troubles, or your pet fish who used to be the sole observer of your anger, do not matter anymore.
Your Facebook and Instagram accounts lie logged in, the entire day, and you still do not bother to check it once. Because that is none of your business now.
You finally realize that life is all about you and that your existence is the only thing that’s valuable. No one, I repeat, no one, has the right then, to tell you what’s right and what isn’t. You are the only person responsible for the decisions that you make and live with. You cannot be controlled, ordered or mistreated. Because that’s what your worth is.
Now, what about the tree? Why did I take that leaf-shedding tree as my reference?
The tree has some common traits with that of us, humans. And so, when it realizes it’s worth, it sheds all of its leaves to get rid of its diseased parts; the parts, which were restricting it’s growth.
By the end, it comprehends that somehow every bit of it had got affected with that particular deadly disease and thus, the tree has to get leafless in order to shine again.
This is what we have to do, too. If you have to rise up above all, you’ll have to let go of those near and dear ones who were once, closest to you. Not because you want to stand alone, but because they are the ones restricting your growth. Because they are the ones who aren’t aware of your true worth.
I’ll rise and shine,
In fine clothes someday,
You’ll be the witness,
I tell you,
That I’ll give you.
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