The canopy of the Yellow Be Still Tree flowers was spread out over her as she lay under it with a book in her hand and a straw hat on her face. Her shoes were lying in a heap next to her, and the Yellow five petal flowers from the tree were strewn around her on the lush grass as she removed the hat and squinted her eyes to check the time on her wristwatch. It was a breezy afternoon, and the tree swayed in the wind like a lone dancer moving to a favourite rhythm. Frowning to see the time she sat up and looked up at the sunlight that filtered through the leaves and made a latticework pattern over her. Picking up a fallen bloom she sniffed it, no smell whatsoever. She twisted it between her thumb and forefinger like a Pinwheel, watching it’s petals blur as they spiralled. A smile played on her lips.
Her eyes were fixed on the book, she bent and picked it up. Flipping the pages of the Khaled Hosseini novel, she retrieved a small envelope from its leaves. She removed a folded letter from the envelope and opened it with care. The paper was delicate and seemed like it had been smoothed back after being crushed hard. She placed the letter on her knees and smoothened it out once more, lovingly she did it. The handwriting was slanting and curvy. The T’s and F’s were made exquisitely, and written with a fountain pen. She ran her hand on the paper and kissed the paper as if it were a Bible. Her fingers trembled as she held it up close to her eyes, she wanted to read it one more time, but her eyes, damn her eyes, why were they all blurry. She closed her eyes in desperation, and two fat tear drops fell on the letter, where the sender’s name was signed, making the ink run.
I Love you and will keep doing so. You will be a part of my soul, but you can’t be a part of my life. You know why You know I am not Infidel, you see I am bound. Of all the letters I have ever written you, this is toughest one. Never thought one day I will be writing it. Time has rusted our once Perfect relationship. You know how manyTiffs we had, how may reconciliations. When you find this letter, I would be gone, my bags are packed as I write this, I have emptied the drawers as well. I packed it all.
What I haven’t packed are all the rainy days with you, the nights wrapped with you. Some more stuff is there as well. One Autumn, some dried leaves from our garden. Get rid of them for me. One umbrella, with us two under it, I am taking half rain with me, but a damp shirt is still with you, send that. 16 full moon nights and few fake promises, some mock teasing, pack all. Just bury them all, cremate them all for me, I couldn’t muster that much courage.
My last goodbye for you. I Love You……
She was blinded with tears by the time she read his name, it was wet with her tears. She folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope and kept the envelope in the book before shutting the book close. While standing up she bent down to gather some Yellow Lucky Nut flowers, the tree had many names. They had both spent countless evenings under it. A smile played on her lips as she thought about the time she had told him she will eat its flowers and he had promised her that it will never be needed as he would never leave her. Walking up to the house she picked each flower one by one and ate its petals, one by one she ate them and by the time she was back inside her cottage all the flowers were gone. All the stuff he left behind needed to be buried, just like he told her to. It can go to the grave with her. After all, the tree had one more name, Suicide Tree.