Radical Leaves

Vikram Bagchi

Vikram is a current M3/MSTP student at the University of Michigan Medical School. When defining revival, I prefer the most literal definition: to live again. It’s a radical interpretation, death followed by life. Plus, who doesn’t like a comeback story? Over the past few weeks, I’ve been taking walks in the Ann Arbor Fall, re-sensitizing my sensory receptors as they were thoroughly dulled by a year’s worth of indoor clinical duties. As I crunched along the autumnal sidewalks, my eyes gazed at the fallen leaves, glistening with their vibrant hues and varied textures. Although beautiful, their positioning on the Earth's floor indicated an end to their lives; vital pigments fade and variety gives way to uniform, brittle, hunched shadows of themselves. Thus, I sought their revival. I gathered my favorite leaves, trimmed their edges, and oriented them into lively shapes. Death followed by new life. Working on this project was a radical shift from the daily clinical schedule, roles, and responsibilities that I had over this past year. In a sense, I too experienced a revival. These leaves are timeless representations of beginning anew; a reminder that to continue onwards, one needs to take the radical excursion from their day-to-day, every now and again.