THE RESIDENT

 

The tree spanned the lane that 

Wound through the spacious dwellings 

Of the smooth and snobbish..

Twirling its green arms in happy abandon!!

 

It beckoned and nodded at 

The slightest whim 

Of the heavens or lesser beings

Standing benign and tall..

 

Years of living had left their imprint 

In a hundred knarls and knots 

On its arms and feet 

The stamp of time .

 

Generations of faces had 

Peeped out from the windows

Reaching out to touch 

Even as the tree reached out to them ..

 

It was a continuous celebration 

Among the dark leaved branches 

Arms wide open, clapping, swaying 

To the rhythms of hymns unsung.

 

The fresh human faces faded 

 And were replaced by older ones

And grey haired ones 

And ones with bent bodies and sunken eyes.

 

It stood a silent spectator to the ones 

On their final journeys 

All passing beneath and beside it 

 A mute attendant ..

 

It fell in and out of love every day 

Echoing the sentiments 

Of the very ones that it shaded and fanned

 Its memories huddled close and hidden .

 

Of times spent as a strapping young sapling

Thrilling with every metre gained

That now had given way to folds and creases 

A hoary image, a synonym for Tithonus ..

 

The scurrying squirrels, full of mischief 

And tiny feathered inhabitants with homes tucked away

 In the creases of its aged limbs 

Still made it smile, a protector and friend…

 

 One memory stands out !

Of a stormy night that left an orphan

 in its arms to tend and nourish, 

Helpless and blind , barely a fledgling..

 

The hapless feathered parents had 

Perished in the night’s storm 

Trying to protect 

Their only offspring ..

 

Confounded and stunned 

The tree took on the mother’s role

It fanned and fed and covered the little mite 

Even as it tried to befriend its own kind .

 

At night, rejected, it snuggled close o the tree trunk 

Feeling the rushing sap, comforted at last. 

The tree was everything he had 

Father, Mother, Friend, everything..

 

The happiest of times, and the worst of times 

Were all shared together

Their very beings shaped as one, over time

As though their souls had united!

 

 

As time passed, 

the “foster child” 

Became the protector

The “parent” looked on bemused.

 

The feathered child rose to the occasion

Every time he perceived

 A threat to his “mother” 

And those under her care..

 

Now, The old gnarled “mother”

Nurtures the tenth generation

Of the foster child, fondly regaling them

With stories of his antics ..

 

When the little mites ask “How was He different?”

She winks and says ”nothing darlings ..nothing,

Except that he will always be “First Resident.” 

And she is instantly lost in a flash back …

 

The gleaming black beak turned 

His raven wings shining, stretched out

Ever on the look out 

For sustenance..

 

 

Through chaos and confusion

He emerges victorious 

With the coveted bit in his beak .

Today, survival is assured!!