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A Brown Diary

By Vedashree B N

Dear diary with pages made of me,

Day 789.

I woke up today to see two bees quarreling.

What could they have been fighting over?

On whom to vote for the queen?

Day 792.

I didn't write for three days.

Everyone's busy, the creepers and shrubs, everyone.

I slept most of the day.


Don't judge.

They have growing up to do.

I am the tallest tree around, what do I have to stay awake for?


No, nothing. Nothing to do.

Day 793.

The stream sounds nice.

It sucks to have deep long feet with the inability to go places.

Staying still is why I grew so tall.

Or else I'd be wide, like the lake.

Oh love the lake.

Day 790.


Out of all days, out of alllll the dayyyssss, had to come on my bad leaf day. Dear God!

Saw me, ignored straight up, took pictures of that bald oldie left to me.


Day 800.

These days, it's hard.

That's all.

Day 805.

I am drying up.

My browns are shading dull.

Day 824

The Flyingtons left me.

I can't believe this.

Day 830

Thirst is all I feel.

My skin flakes just drop down.

The branches seem to have no leaves.

My hair fall. Leaves fall. It's fall, after all.

Day 846

I should be tired.

From all the standing and rooting.

I should be.

They come sit around,

but have they ever offered me seat?

Wait, the right side bamboo tried to sit, they all ran away. Okay fine with that.

I just want to rest.

Day 855

I can't write often.

My eye nodes are blurry.

They're worn down.

Day 879

I think there's something rightly wrong happening inside me.

Day 882

I see all the seedlings sprouting.

Oh how adorable.

Do they have enough ink?

Let me ask them tomorrow.

Day 1284

I've found this unusual diary.

Wise words I must say.

An old wise oak as the say.

Seems like it belongs to someone who grew old.

Weird thing.

The ink is in a million shades of green, with words really tiny.


As if someone overly tall, kept it on the ground and wrote it all .

By Vedashree B N

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