Grandpa's Lychee Tree

I was half sprawled on the mattress, listening keenly to a podcast. A peculiar type of sound filled the room. I went to window to locate the source of the sound. I saw the lychee tree that my grandpa had planted in our neighbour's garden. Two people were attacking the soft woody tree with their axes. Each strike of axe felt like slaps on my skin. I remembered my grandpa, the sweet old man always loved greenery. He got a particular breed of lychee tree that year, we didn't have any good place to plant it. That time Raghab daadu, a good friend and our neighbour told grandpa to plant it in the border area of their garden which connected their land to our land. How happy both families were during those days. We used to pick lychee and have gun with Raghab daadu's grandchildren. Then this cursed smartphone Era came. The relations dulled, the affections lessened, and the harmony was lost. Whenever my kids tried to pick some lychee, Hey got scolded by our neighbours. The connection of brotherhood was so bitter that it turned into enmity. As I see the lychee tree falling down, it again feels like I'm experiencing my grandpa's funeral.