I see riddles in simple things, things I wish I could just pass by and not notice but can’t. I can’t keep calm and find peace until I find a reasonable reason that feels like the perfect answer to my query. If you can’t understand me, it’s because you aren’t a twisted, super smart, god-complex-ridden, unfairly attractive human who holds at least three personalities and gets sudden urges to write about things. Once I was roaming around the park near my college, and I laid my eyes on this coniferous plant, tall and steady, as old as the city of Kathmandu itself, giving me the coolest shade in the sunny afternoon and moving its branches and leaves with the wave of air like it was dancing to the memories it had. With one of the strong waves of wind, one of the conifer cones was cut off from its safe heaven; its branch dropped to the ground. I picked it up and held it in my hand, and the first two words that I felt while looking at it were simple yet intriguing. I took it home, kept it on my shelf, and started searching for all the things I could find about it.

After leaving no stone unturned, I found out the tendency of conifer cones to curl completely shut when the temperature is cold, and harsh to protect the seed, that they have inside their cone scales, and they again open up their scales when they are greeted by just the right amount of warmth and heat from the sunlight. This for me was astonishing because growing up until that day, I had seen plants curling up while they were somehow connected to their roots and alive and growing like that of Mimosa pudica, but I had never heard of or seen anything that acts like this even when it has been cut off far away from its origin and roots. Then I felt our life resembles so much to that of the conifer pine. Like the cones are thrown away by an environment far from their haven, we are also compelled to leave our haven, our comfort zone, to grow, and like the cone faces difficulties in protecting its seeds, we find it hard to protect our seeds, i.e, our values, culture, beliefs, peace, sometimes our truth, history, and relationship to our roots and our whole selves.

After thinking for days, I felt conifer cones are love language, an act that declares love with no utterance at all. Just like a conifer cone needs a perfect and warm environment so it can open and disperse its seeds, in life, when my loved ones are going through rough, cold, and rainy weather and they are desperate but there seems to be no ray of sunshine when their mind feels heavy and their thoughts are trying to destroy their peace, they shall know looking at the cone that I am here wishing them all the best and praying for them. If there is any sort of power in loving a person, mine shall be always protected. The subtle act of letting them know whatever happens, whatever comes their way, however harsh the situation might get in their life, they have me through thick and thin. Reminder: I will be here for you always, holding space and loving you. You are my person. I love you, Kriti, <3