Across the road

The pandemic has accomplished what ageing could not – it has turned me into a house-bound being. In order to make up in part for the usual walks that I was habituated to, I sit in a chair on the balcony and watch the world go by. The balcony overlooks a rather busy road that is bordered on the opposite side by a small park. The scene in front of me, though not invigorating, is stimulating and satisfying.

All the time, there is an unending procession of people caught in some errand of their own. Conversation, with the liveliness that accompanies it, is somewhat muted because of the mandatory wearing of masks. This however is compensated by an increase in gesticulation and body language. The pedestrians, I notice, have taken to more colourful attire, perhaps because of the aridity of the times enforced on us. Dogs are on parade more often than before.

There is however another ever-present and more charming entity that engages my attention. Inside the park and on the edge of the road is a rain-tree. Tall with spreading branches, its new and tender green leaves draw a lovely outline against the clear, blue sky. As this species of trees goes, it is not a big one. But it is nevertheless a graceful and elegant specimen. What draws my attention to it are the vicissitudes I know it has endured being where it now is.

As a sapling, it was cut, stripped and otherwise vandalized many a time. But it literally and figuratively rose above all this to turn into the lovely picture it presents. It is a silent benefactor to innumerable living beings – bees, butterflies, birds and humans. It is a living, breathing purifier of the air and does this work without a murmur. Its gentle rustle in the breeze is soothing music. The quiet closure of its leaves in the evening reminds us that it has a sensitive heart within it and that it beats largely for others.

Trees, whatever their kind, are a source of inspiration. No tree ever eats its own fruit. They stand uncomplainingly in sun and wet weather to provide shelter. They are symbolic of life and remind us to grow, spread out and serve others. Why then do we cut them down without any thought? Should we not stand with the conservationists who cry out against the mindless destruction of trees? As the Buddha pointed out, ‘a tree offers protection and shade even to the woodcutter who axes it. Every tree is worthy of reverence and worship.’