Banyan trees dripped slow tears; a drop hit my cheek as I sat on a bench in the corner of a park. "Mother nature is unhappy", I thought as the dew felt unusually warm, "or perhaps this one's a warm blooded banyan tree" I was amused.
Beside me sat a pretty girl, perhaps older than me but certainly younger than the 'sad' banyan tree, whose accidental encounter was a bliss considering the blues of the countryside.
After minutes of awkward silence she spoke without much enthusiasm. "Let me tell you a story" she began, startling me. "Excuse me?" I thought of protesting as I had better things to do but taking into consideration that she was an eye-candy I gave the briefest possible nod, a five degree one.
"Good" she remarked sensing my lack of interest, and took a deep breath; I wondered how she got enough oxygen through her tiny nostrils.
"It is a true story about this park." she began, he exceedingly bright eyes locked into mine. From the corner of my eye I could see her larger-than-life earring the size of my grandma's bangles.
"One night when the moon was young, a newly wed couple strolled this park hand in hand; their faces radiant as they were deeply in love." At this point i let out a sigh of relief as this was not another pep talk on conservation of banyan trees.
"As they reached this very bench," she resumed with an intent look, her mellifluous voice dropped to a stern tone that reminded me of my mom's lectures. "the couple saw the figure of a levitating woman silhouetted against the dimly lit night sky. The lovers were left in a lurch , their radiant faces turned pale and they were aghast at the sight of a suicide scene."
Although thoroughly horrified, the husband took some cowardly steps and pulled out a note from the corpse's motionless hand intending to impress his ladylove. The note read:
'My lover has betrayed me,
my soul has lost meaning.
This tree shall bear my misery
and cry tears of blood for me.'
The lovers fled from the scene. The gatekeeper found the note the next day but since he couldn't read he buried it along with the corpse under the shade of this banyan tree. It is said that this tree took root through the heart of the dead body. Ever since this banyan tree is known to shed dew drops of blood on the date of the suicide committal." She let out a heavy sigh indicating the end of the story. I couldn't help a smirk as i found the end a little too dramatic.
"So when is the bloody day?" I asked with a touch of sarcasm in my voice. "Today" she said coldly. I was sent whirling in a dilemma. "So how is your husband doing?" I asked in a matter-of-fact tone; attempting to tilt the conversation. "He betrayed me... " she replied. Before i could react i felt a warm sensation on my cheek. "Curse you, stupid pigeons." I mumbled as i looked up but no bird was in sight. As i looked down a nanosecond later no one was in sight.
This could only mean one thing!
I remained still in disbelief until i felt a tap on my shoulder. It was the gatekeeper from the story.He said to me in a heavy Indian accent, "Bhaya, your cheek is bloody."