Five monsoons ago the phoenix landed here, finding his feet in a city that can seem daunting to many, but welcoming to most. It was an easy move. The ‘honey moon’ period, as it is called, didn’t last long, but while the first year flew by, it brought with it few changes. The phoenix was not growing, but merely acclimatising.
The evolution began with the second year. The plumage was at its best, the city had done its wonder. ‘The move has agreed with you!’, many remarked. People saw the exterior, but the interior still needed work. This city punches you. Every day. Some days it hurts. Other days it was just a friendly nudge on your chin. It is a relentless teacher. And it was preparing the phoenix for the bigger lesson which loomed ahead.
The third year was perhaps the best. A lot of reflection, a lot of satisfaction, a lot of reward. But the phoenix had also embarked upon his soul journey. The signs were present and clear. The lesson was not going to be easy. He had chosen it. He didn’t know how he would fare. But begin he did. This marked the decline of the phoenix.
The year that followed was the most difficult. He came to terms with certain realities in his fourth year, walking down a path that was shrouded in mystery, providing a very steep learning curve. The phoenix found himself alone. Not that he didn’t have the support of his loved ones, but some journeys, like some lessons, can only be under taken singularly. The phoenix looked and felt his worst.
It was in the fifth year, that the phoenix knew it was time to die. The journey he had started a few years back showed signs of completion. The narrow path, along which he had walked with minimal light, had widened. There were glimpses of life, rays of hope coming through. And in good time too, because any moment now, he would turn into ash.
The transformation was painful. It required a lot of self-love to let go, and accept the inescapable fate. As the embers in the ash signalled the end of a cycle of learning, a sound was heard. A small fledgling was raising his tiny head, croaking and blinking, staring into the world. You see, in Dumbledore’s words, “Phoenixes burst into flames when it is time for them to die and are reborn from the ashes”.
Behold the new world, with different lessons. The old ones had been learned. It was time to fly, a new land beckoned him. A magical journey awaited the resurrected Phoenix.