And Then A Bulldozer Came

The early morning walks gave Pakhi the perfect sight of the yellow-footed green pigeon. People in Assam, her state often said "Aji haitha matit poril".(Today the haitha has fallen down). She never knew what it meant as a child. As she grew up this sentence started making sense to her which meant the haitha bird never comes to the ground and when it does it dies. When she trodded along the lone lanes for her early morning walks, one day she came across a tree. She stopped a while taking the earphones down and putting them in the pocket of her tracks. People around stared at her for a while seeing her stop midway between her walks, shivering in the cold wind of December and then walking past. She saw a man coming near her and asked, "Dada, eai jega tur gutei gosbur kati dibo nki? (Will all the trees of this place shall be cut?)The man nodded his head. She understood yes every tree of the place she once came to click photos in the mustard fields, the places that were so familiar with her, the witness to the beautiful moments with her friends will be cleared soon. She looked up to a lone tree standing in the middle of the large field and saw some movement amidst the leaves. Then there was another, then another. She understood there might be some birds hiding coming to feed on the fruits of the tree whose name was unknown to her. The only thing that she knew was that it was home to so many different species of birds. She completed the full round of the lawn and then returned, many thoughts pestering her which answers she tried to find within herself for the entire day when she was busy with her research work in the lab and even at night.

As was her usual morning routine, the next day she again went out of her quarter to visit the tree. She was filled with wonder. There were so many birds of one kind feasting on the seeds of the tree. The clamorous choir of bird songs had stolen the beauty of the wee hours. Her heart rejoiced and she sat for an hour under the tree sun basking, lost in the beauty of the place which was a part of her own, a place that has been a part of her youthful days, in moments of strife and glory. Their colours were the same as that of the leaves of the tree. Getting down from the path she went to the field and looked above. Ah! what a magnificent sight it was?. Many yellow-footed green pigeons were feasting on the seeds. She was delighted but the next moment she was filled with sadness when she looked around only to be caught by the sight of the branches of the fallen trees. She understood in no time this tree might be gone. She looked around to see if there were any people and when she met the same person she talked to a day earlier requested him "Dada ai gosjupa katibo mana krbo paribo ne? (Can you request someone not to allow this tree to be cut?). He didn't respond and put his head down. She knew what his answer would be . After a moment he replied, "If the constructors feel that this tree would not come in the midst of the building then maybe they might decide not to cut the tree". She returned to her quarter, her face gloomy with thoughts of the yellow-footed green pigeon.

It was severely raining when she woke up at 4 a.m in the morning the next day. She decided not to go for the morning walk. Yet she made up her mind after an hour when she saw that the rain had stopped and the weather was clear. How could she not go, might be the yellow-footed green pigeon might be seating in the tree to give her the perfect sight to add to the beauty of a beautiful morning, might be the Oriole might be swinging in one of the lone branches in the tree, might be several birds might be dancing around the tree, shrieking around. She put on her tracks, shoes and the sweatshirt and tuned to Jayadev's Gita Govinda's Ehi Murari and walked on.....one, two, three she counted her footsteps. In the road, she saw her colleague Sid walking past her for his morning exercise. She wished him a good morning and walked past. There were several people around the lawn taking rounds, some sitting down for meditation soaked in the grace of the divine. She saw the sunrays playing with the branches of the tall trees of the beautiful lawn of her institute. In the distance, she saw the Snow-capped Himalayas standing tall. Rows and rows of mustard fields attracted weary travellers for a selfie. It is this time of the year when the mustard fields become a safe recluse for many, bees keep humming above the yellow as the first bud of the Kanchan flower awaits to welcome the New Year and then the whole institute is full of pink and white blooms. 

Finally, when she reached the construction site and got down from the road she saw that the tree was gone. The trunk of the tree lay fallen. She sat down for a while and looked around. The Hariyal was nowhere to be found. Tears welled down her face. She picked up a small fallen branch and for a while stared at the seeds that were food for the Hariyal birds. Her heart sent a silent shiver. She looked around her if only she could see them but they are gone. She looked back on hearing someone calling her name, 'Pakhi, Pakhi someone called'. She looked back and saw Sid with an umbrella in his hands. She answered back, 'Yes', Hey" what are you doing?", he asked her. She said nothing and returned from the field. He gave her his umbrella and they started walking together. She saw a bulldozer crossing her on her way to the quarter. She knew not how many more trees would be fallen again. Her mind was occupied with many thoughts. Might be she won't get to see the beautiful sight of the Hariyal again in the morning walk. There was a slight drizzle and by the time she reached her quarter, it was raining heavily. Her clothes got drenched fully.

She got ready at 8 a.m for her lab work. Sid came at 8.30 a.m and they cycled together to the department. He was silent in an entire way. Maybe his thoughts resonated at the frequency of Pakhi's heart. The Hariyal birds were a part of their morning walks. Every time they walked around the lawn Pakhi would often ask him to wait a while so that she can have a glance at the Hariyal. Now he knew their walks would continue only to stare at the barren field filled with high raised apartments with the sights and sounds of birds lost for eternity.