Have you ever lost a very dear object and promised yourself you would never replace it? In a poem I wrote for a poetry blog, I tell the story of how I broke that promise when I lost my Tree of Life ring.
Here’s the poem for you:
My Tryst with a Tree of Life
The date was 27th December.
I’d fulfilled my writing targets for the day.
My characters had surprised me with their tricks
and some had left me laughing out loud.
I felt a kind of lightness that comes when writing I’ve long carried
has left my body. A friend staying in the same hostel suggested
an evening out. So off we went wandering, with no particular plan.
It was the Central Street in town and the Tibetan store
was on the first floor. We could easily have missed it.
As soon as I saw it, I knew it was mine. And felt like
the shopkeeper had borrowed my Tree of Life ring for display.
I paid 1500 INR for “my ring” and it fitted me like a dream.
We were a match made in the darkest, greenest, most wondrous forest.
We were always meant to be together, my Tree of Life said.
‘Vena Amoris,’ the Vein of Love, runs from the
tip of the ring finger to the heart, ancient Egyptians believed
and so too, the hotline between my heart and ring finger
buzzed with messages and love notes about flowering trees
mossy logs, sunlight slanting through impossibly beautiful leaves
trees eaten by termites but still pulsing with life
trees that could feel spring in their bodies even in winter.
We never crossed the honeymoon phase – my Tree of Life
and I. Our love-talk became public information and inspired
many lovers to come out and be brazen about love’s madness.
Like many lovers, maybe we started taking each other for granted.
I knew I could never be without my Tree of Life and yet
I barely noticed when it stopped holding me tight.
And one day, it left me.
I remember the exact moment when I found my finger
bereft of my Tree of Life. I couldn’t cry or speak.
I couldn’t call for help. I retraced my steps
looked in all the places we’d been together.
It was simply gone. Though I stood in the shade of many
trees, hugged many trees and they hugged me right back
I missed my Tree of Life.
I told myself that it was gone because
it was done teaching me
about impermanence and loss
about learning not to be attached to love
that will wash away in the summer rain.
I told myself that I would never look for a Tree of Life ring
because I had to live the lessons it had left for me.
Yet, I scoured the internet for blind dates with
a silver Tree of Life ring. No one seemed as pretty
or perfectly matched for me as “my ring.”
I could not bring myself to forget it
nor heal from the emptiness that
inhabited all the spaces between
my ring finger and heart.
Wandering in the same town on a family holiday
again on the Central Street, I noticed that
the Tibetan Jewellery store was also gone.
I was relieved – she could never be replaced
my Tree of Life. That’s when the shopkeeper nearby
seeing me look up at the first floor and sigh
directed us towards a new Tibetan Jewellery store.
I tried to drag my family away but what’s the harm
they said, let’s take a look and there
among all the treats in turquoise
lapis, garnet and onyx sat my silver Tree of Life.
Its branches curved outward and downward
and it looked at life inside out, upside down
just the way I remembered.
Having lost and found each other, we were awkward this time
though I knew it had waited for me
and it knew how much I’d missed it.
8 years since my tryst with a Tree of Life began in a
Tibetan Jewellery store on the first floor
I paid 1350 INR for a new silver Tree of Life ring.
The date was 27th December.
Treevellers' Katte 