Courtyard of mango leaves

The scent of the sand drifted through my nose, bringing news that the drizzle had transformed into rain. Sometimes I think a heavy rain could ease my pain. I believe it can wash away sorrow.

I needed a warm blanket to pamper myself. A mug of coffee was waiting for me. Suddenly, my eyes lingered on the big tree standing at the corner of the street.

That tree was my childhood. The courtyard was always covered with mango leaves. I don’t have a clear memory of the person who planted it, but as far as I can remember, it was always there. It shared a deep bond with me. I used to play among its branches, and my elder brother made a swing hanging from one of them. As a little girl, I spent whole days in that tree. Sometimes, I wondered how old it was.

When the red ants queued along its branches, they built little homes by joining four or five leaves together. There was also a gummy resin oozing from the cracks in its branches.

Life is an amazing thing. People often believe that the moments they are living will never change. Yet, in a fraction of a second, life has the magical power to turn them into memories, yesterdays, or nostalgia.

As a little girl, that tree was my tiny world. It held my whole life. Over the past twenty years, I have walked roads I had never imagined before. Different landscapes, different weather, different languages, and different people became part of my journey. The greatest gift life has given me is the strength to endure everything I face today. I hope the little girl inside me never disappears.

I have lost people who once filled those memory lanes of my life. Some left quietly without even letting me know.

I found a small box that looked like an antique. It fit perfectly in my hands. When I opened it, I found the rarest treasure inside—a photograph of a little girl in a lilac dress, standing naturally without knowing someone was taking her picture. Her face seemed to transform into that of another girl, who was posing for the camera. Behind them, the mango tree looked young and healthy. Dry leaves were scattered beneath its shade.

There was no note tucked inside this precious gift she had always longed for. Yet she could still read the most beautiful and heartfelt story of her past through the foxed photograph. Her eyes blurred with tears as she opened the box which carried a message with heavy emotions.Sometimes, wordless emotions can make you understand more. There is only one certainty in life—life goes on. It moves forward, carrying everything with it: joy, sorrow, love, and loss. How we receive those moments depends on the kind of emotional person we are. Some people learn to let go with ease, while others carry even the smallest memories deep within their hearts.

If a tree could become such an important part of my life, it is because I have always found comfort in the simplest things. I do not seek grand possessions or extraordinary moments. A familiar tree, the scent of rain, a warm cup of coffee, or an old photograph can hold an entire lifetime of emotions. Perhaps that is the beauty of life—not in what we own, but in the quiet memories that continue to live within us long after time has moved on.