A soul companion

To my ears, few sounds are more distressing than the thud of axes against a tree that is being felled. And so a recent news-item that there has been a drastic fall in the area of dense forest cover in Karnataka amounting to 10 percent in the last six years was saddening indeed. The tendency to regard trees as mere wood is increasing day by day.

In ancient India sages chose to sit under trees in order to teach or meditate. They were well aware, as this beautiful legend tells us, of their great value. A young disciple was asked by his master to search and find a tree that was useless to mankind. After years of travel and research, he returned, now a middle-aged man, to say that he had failed in his mission. Every tree and plant – bark, roots, flower, fruit, leaves or sap – contained medicinal or nutritional value which enhanced life.

In her lovely poem, ‘Trees’, Joyce Kilmer begins by saying, “I think I shall never see, a poem as lovely as a tree,” and concludes, “Poems are made by fools like me, but only God can make a tree.” Less poetically but as fervently, I would say that a tree, for me, is a place to sit under and allow myself in the luxury of wonder.  

There are those who are surrounded by trees but don’t see them. I remember escorting a bunch of school children to a lovely picnic-spot. It was a farm and all around were majestic trees – jack, mango and rain – spreading shade and harbouring rich bird and insect life. The children however were oblivious to it all and preferred to be closeted indoors watching a movie!

My childhood home, though located in Kerala, boasted of no big trees. Fortunately, the hostel in which I lived during my graduate studies overlooked the golf course. It abounded with trees and one of them provided me with a wonderful place of retreat. 

Its branches were low and I was able to climb up and settle myself in a comfortable nook, ringed by lush foliage. In the shady arms of this tree, I enjoyed peace and quiet. It was a haven of respite whenever I wanted to study or escape the strident company of friends. The chatter of birds and the hum of insects, far from disturbing me, cheered and soothed me. I also enjoyed watching the astonishment on the faces of those who came to retrieve golf balls and suddenly spotted me, a girl, perched on the branches.

The passage of years has not dimmed my love for trees. I can no longer climb them, but I enjoy sitting under them. What, you might ask, is their appeal? At their heart is a remarkable and enviable stillness. Silently they work, gathering goodness from the soil and giving it ungrudgingly to man and beast. Shade, shelter, flower and fruit, all these and more, they provide in plenty, expecting but little in return. Rooted and unmoving, they face the elements uncomplainingly and with amazing grace and strength.  

Like true artists, they lace the blue sky in multitudinous patterns of green. Stare at a tree or sit under it, it becomes your soul companion. You slide into a silence that is gentle with memories, feelings and thoughts – of swinging, climbing, watching, thinking and growing!