I Had A Tree Once

Have you ever been friends with a tree. Because I had and it was a wonderful friendship. Like all great affairs, it was Secret and hence sacred. My this friend was a majestically beautiful, tall Peepal tree with smooth white trunk and as a child, it would fit perfectly in my hug. Located in my grandfather's farm, near electric water tubewell and a room for storing all agricultural equipment, it seemed lonely to me. All the birds who sat on its branches could never understand the sensitivity hidden behind strong structure. I would take water in my hands and sprinkle it on the tree, again and again, covering all the area, tiring myself throughout in the process but glad to be of help.

I could feel the leaves turning extra green with my gesture and when I told it all my secrets, it did nod silently. Alas, we could not carry it for long. When Grandpa was making changes in the landscape, the tree had to go unfortunately. I could not save it inspite of great efforts. Only cry I could at its befall. Grandpa said that he would plant bigger and better trees. But it would never be the same and I no longer make friends with trees. I just nod and smile just like strangers or neighbours. No small talk and definitely no secrets. It's not them, it's me who is not worthy of maintaining great friendship.