When we first arrived at this house and looked out of the windows we saw a piece of barren land. A large barren land. Few birds used to visit. But, that was mostly it. Much like us back then.
And one day a mayhem beckoned us to peak through the curtains and we saw a tractor ploughing the field. Birds were following the trail left by the tractor and coming in hordes. Oh, the smell of wet soil. It just felt like the freshness we felt in our life at that point.
Before we could even fathom it, tiny saplings were beginning to grow in shades of bright green. What was the crop we wondered; it could be anything, potatoes, corn, rice or even onions for that matter? We did not know for sure. Perhaps it was a bit like what were doing at that point; just going with the flow.
Turns out that it was just grass. Plain grass. What is the point of cultivating such a large field of grass? Fodder. It’s food for cattle. That is a noble cause to live for. Sometimes a plain boring life is not that bad. It has a purpose too. Rather, you don’t need a great purpose to live. You just do what you have to do.
The summer heat beat the life out of the grass. It becomes a pale yellow, the colour of hay. The birds flies in and out in flocks. But they are not around for long, it is just a pit stop for them. Perhaps, it is a reminder that our time here is slowly coming to an end. Not that we were not expecting it, but it is never easy.
The headlights shine through our window and we look outside into the night. We follow the lights of the tractor as it cut to and fro through the field. We can hardly figure out what’s happening out there. May be we should just take it as it comes and not worry about the future.
Morning comes. We see neat piles of grass rolled up into tight little packs, scattered here and there in the field. Are those memories or emotional baggages? Is it easy to just pick up your things and move on?
And, just when we think it is all over, the tractor comes again. This time the field is ploughed again. The tilled soil looks so fertile and ready. What will be the next crop? What is in store for us? We don’t have the slightest clue. May be it doesn’t matter. We should just make best out of whatever it is.
The grass will forever be green on this side.