Aijaz Aslam

A reflection in the window catches my eye as the car speeds through the streets: it is a solid and foreboding tree. Weathered by experience and age, but far from withered. Going through its good – perhaps its best years. Its leaves still green, its bulk sturdy, its root, visibly deep in the ground. Two young people stand under its shade, perhaps breathing in the freshness of its air for a minute. It’s funny how many details the eye can see, or for that matter how the mind works, because I see a lot of myself in that tree. Not just on what it is outwardly to the world, rather what it is, organic…natural. What it is deep inside. A contributor to the world. A fighter still willing to grow (it stands against the harsh, polluted environment, yet its branches and its roots still grow).

There are no products in this section