Every day morning I take a walk in my garden, taking flowers for puja. I observe leaves on the plants and trees with fascination. Born fresh and green, they dance in the breeze, bathed in Sunlight, and sway in the rhythm of life. They understand their role - a fleeting moment in the eternal cycle of nature. As time passes, the vibrant green turns golden, the edges curl ever so slightly, and a gentle crispness creeps in. The leaves know their time on the tree is nearing an end. They embrace this change with quiet dignity, detaching themselves when the moment comes, to float down gracefully, becoming one with the earth that had nourished them.
My mind wanders to the life of humans. Born just as fresh and full of life as the leaf, the human too grows, thrives, and inevitably begins to age. But here, the story takes a comical twist. While the leaf accepts the wrinkles and dryness as part of the design, the human, armed with creams, tablets, and therapies, declares war on the inevitable. They are scared of the osteoporosis setting in. They need to get check ups every year and strive to keep body parameters same as at the prime of youth.
When the hair thins, the human fights valiantly with wigs and expensive serums. When the skin sags, there are injections, surgeries, and an unholy alliance with anti-aging potions. While the leaf gently lets go of its moisture, the human clings desperately, popping supplements and drinking from bottles promising "eternal youth."
But nature has its own way. No amount of resistance can hold back the autumn of life. The leaf, unburdened, gently drifts to the ground, a poetic end to its journey, surrounded by its fellow leaves. The human, on the other hand, is often found in stark contrast—hooked to machines that beep incessantly, tubes and wires replacing the free-flowing wind it once danced in. The serene finality of life is replaced with a fight, a struggle to cling to each ticking second, even as the spirit grows weary.
The leaf’s departure is a celebration of its life—a quiet exit, surrounded by the very earth that will transform it into nourishment for the next generation. The human, in an ironic bid to control every moment, often leaves not among loved ones but in sterile hospital rooms, shrouded in fear and loneliness.
Perhaps, the humble leaf has something to teach us - to age with grace, to embrace the natural cycles of life, and to let go when the time comes. Instead of resisting the inevitable, maybe we too can fall gently, returning to the earth with peace, leaving behind not fear but the memory of a life well-lived.
After all, nature, with all its wisdom, has designed the perfect exit strategy. It’s we humans who seem to have forgotten the script.
