Dear Readers, you may notice the dates of the Blog do not match the Flash Post dates which are in real time. The blog was written in 2009 and saw the light of day 6 months back when my younger daughter discovered it and decided to bring it to you here.
Thy Name Is Regality | Flash Post 372

Thy Name Is Regality | Flash Post 372

Button, I find trees regal. They are tall and stately. They are elegant and stunningly beautiful, each having a personality all its own.

Is there a reason why we are suddenly talking of trees?

Dost and I went for a walk in the gardens of the Oberoi’s Udaivilas property after breakfast this morning and as I sat on one of the benches, I noticed hundreds of trees spread out in front.  When my eyes trapezed from one tree to the other, I noticed that though there were trees belonging to the same family, none were alike, not even trees of the same family. The next thing I noticed was that each tree had a definitive posture and resembled a familiar object, also a human that lay hidden in either its trunk or branches. Even in its foliage. One was reaching for something way outside her reach with arms outstretched  One was poised like the Femina Miss India trophy. Another seemed to be holding up something heavy because her shoulders drooped from the weight. Yet, another, had a deep hollow that seemed to be cradling something resembling a foetus. Dost noticed an emblem of a foot on one trunk. He also spotted some branches that had interwoven to look like two heads of conjoined twins and, as we kept spotting more and more trees that threw up familiar objects, it turned into a game with each of us trying to match objects familiar to us with imaginary objects on the trees.

Did you discover more?

We did.


I found one that was bent over resembling an old man with a stick in hand.

Did Dost find any?

He found a bald tree which I felt resembled him!

Don’t be mean. Any more?

One tree had pierced through the roof of an outhouse and spread its limbs far and wide representing moksha. Two trees of the same family had grown away from each other, going their own ways like two squabbling members of a family.

Dost spotted one which resembled a woman with disheveled hair and said it was a replica of me on a bad day. We spotted many more as we went along—some so funny that echoes of our laughter came back to us making us laugh out even louder.

Who won?

Don’t you know?

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