Upon Watching a Peepul tree shed its leaves at 7/6 Roop Nagar

The leaves leave the Peepul tree.

Baring the branches to the summer heat, the leaves leave.

The few that still cling on, seem to fan the trees’ limbs when the wind whisks through .

When I ride my bicycle back from college, I can hear the wheels turning in rhythm to a yellow crunch.

If you were here, I would first show you the tree from my window. You will have to gaze, like I am doing right now, through the grey wire work , wishing you had blinkers on to block out the dusty water cooler that covers most of the window. You would also perchance yearn for a window sill to rest your elbows on as your eyes ease into that faraway look.

In activities such as these(watching leaves fall), it is inevitable that you turn your thoughts inward, and depending on the memories you choose to wade through, you invite either a restful or a restless expression to stroll into the furrows of your face. Then again, you may not be silently thoughtful, you could be speculating aloud about leaves, trees, seasons or the creator himself!

And your words shall drop to the tarred road below, as we stand hands placed on the paint worn black railing of the balcony, watching the tree strewing its leaves on our conversation.

It is customary that I ask: “Do you like imagining the descent of the leaves in slow motion, like in the movies?” If you have ever played the air guitar at a rock concert, you will join me now as I conduct the leaves with an air baton to perform a flip in the air and float in tune to greensleeves or the blue danube.
 

The leaves are falling faster now. 

I imagine O. Henry being inspired to write 'The Last Leaf' by a maple tree one fall
which makes me wonder…why are these leaves falling at the onset of summer?