Hybrid Hues '15-'17 AIIMS, New Delhi | Page 104

But Seasons Had Changed I found a small garden In the midst of Dull grey concrete And roads hazy with smoke. An oasis of solace In this crowded, lonely city. ere wasn't anyone around. But on my solitary walk, I became friends with the �owers. Passed my hands through eir tender leaves Breathed in their fragrance Heard the sparrow's sweet song. e garden loved me back: A butter�y graced my shoulder. e laburnum tree too Sent down a golden �ower A gift to keep. Memories to be fond of. is is my place, thought I. A treasure I have all to myself A secret none else can have. Bliss. Time �ew Like only time could. And I passed by the garden again. Eager to relive those moments, Entered, and gaped, Wondering if it was the wrong place. (It wasn't. But seasons had changed.) New, soft grass under my feet. e people walking on it, Chatting and laughing. New creepers, new roses. e laburnum, taller and mightier now, Had traded its �owers For ripe black pods. New caterpillars crawling on leaves, e children of my �uttering friends. I couldn't stay much longer. I was sad. I wonder why. It was still most beautiful. But its beauty was no longer Solely mine. e critters I had smiled at Were strangers once more. And if you've seen seasons change You'll know how it feels. 102 Adhish Sethi 3156, Batch 2015