I used to walk down this road to reach my office. It was a road laden with traffic most of the time with restless cars and buses waiting for the signal. On one side of the road, business was brisk- with vegetable and newspaper vendors sitting in a line. Enjoying all those scenes and walking in the shade of the trees planted on the roadside, I reached my office better prepared to face the vagaries of the stock market. After all the more we praise life, we have more reasons to celebrate the fact that we are alive at this moment.
There was this guava vendor of whom my friend and me were great patrons. He would boast that even if one of those guavas in his basket didn’t turn out to be sweet he would give away all of them for free. And magically he never had had to do that. There was this skinny lady garland vendor with matted hair, who was the object of my pity. With every passing year her brood went on increasing. But the means remained more or less the same. She had been selling garlands for two rupees each each since years. Ironically, the buyers’ incomes had risen manifold. She used to feed her children half a bun and raw milk directly out of a packet each morning. They were about five of them in all shapes and sizes. Still a reason to celebrate!
One day I was treading as usual on my way to work, when I was in for a rude shock. Some authority had cut one of the huge beautiful trees on the pretext of widening the road. The vendors sitting under it disappeared, as the place was no longer shady. Even the scores of birds that used to chirp from its dense leaves each evening disappeared. There was no sign of life. After all the murder was committed for making our lives more comfortable. Till date I haven’t been able to figure whether our lives have become better after that.
All that was remaining of the tree was its trunk around two inches from the ground. I always looked at the tree a friend of humanity, which stood in the scorching sun just to provide shade to us. A friend who was shelter to scores of other beings. I knelt down and felt its surface, which was cut ruthlessly by someone who had no regard for life. I was pained. It wanted to live, be shelter to many more like us, but wasn’t allowed to..
It was one of the many countless victims of man’s goliath pride, which screams aloud that he is all-powerful and that he could do anything to mute beings. After all where would the helpless plants and animals go to complain? They do not have a police station dedicated to them. All that I knew was my friend was dead. It took a few days for that feeling to sink. Soon with a thousand people waking over it, the remaining bit of trunk was flattened to the ground level. As human beings, you and me need not worry about tsunamis, global warming, aliens, degrading values etc. We need to fear our very own fellow human beings, who are hell bent on creating disharmony in the rhythm of nature to meet their selfish ends.
Days and months passed by. Seasons changed. The cuckoo heralded the arrival of monsoon, with her sweet song. Within days, the rain gods arrived and the earth rejoiced. I was walking fast on my way to work, when my eyes went out to my friend who was killed long back. And what did I see! Small green shoots were growing from sides of the virtually non-existent trunk. My friend had resurrected...
It had a deep desire to live, just like each one of us. None of us wants to die and that too a painful death. We live for ourselves. The tree lived for us. It had defied death to give our future generations a chance at better life. I was touched by the whole planning of God.
A deep sense of euphoria engulfed me. I closed my umbrella, and felt the magic of the cool drizzle all over me. After all life is all about celebrating its magnanimity and little but sweet surprises!
