The highlight of the concrete jungle that is the
buildings in our colony, is a huge almond tree, nearly the height of our five storey
building. Home to many a creature, from squirrels to exquisite birds, the tree
is a wealth of lilting music in the wee hours of the morning when its feathered
residents cheerily herald a new day. That certainly beats the harsh beep of the
finest alarm clock! While filtering life-giving sunlight into my patio, the
foliage of the large green leaves shelter my bedroom from the scorching heat of
the midday sun. The robust, lush green tree is my refuge, my quiet friend
whenever I feel defeated by life.
During stormy monsoon weather, the tree sways
menacingly, its leaves rustling and hustling, sending a shiver down my spine. Heavens
forbid, if it falls, it will land straight on our building! In spite of the
shadow of fear lurking, I love to watch the sight – the howling wind winding
its way between the branches, tickling and shaking every leaf and fruit. It is
as though the tree and the wind are deeply engrossed in an intelligent
conversation on weighty topics of universal importance. I listen in, losing
myself in the hushed sounds. Thoughts cease and time stands still. Effortless
meditation is what is experienced.
One fine morning I woke up to the sound of hacking and
falling of branches. Looking out of the window, my heart ached and I shed
silent tears, for the once lustrous tree now stood bare, fruitless, leafless,
stripped off its beauty.
My morning ritual of watching the tree and its various
residents had ended. I just didn’t have the heart to open the windows in the
mornings, because the sight of the sad, barren tree was heart wrenching... no
chirping birds, no screeching squirrels…just solemn silence.
When I returned from vacation a week later, I dreaded
looking out of the window at the thought of finding a miserable looking, barren
tree trunk. But I was in for a pleasant surprise. Tiny green shoots were sprouting
from a number of spots on the tree trunk. The splashes of bright green of the
new tender leaves promised a new start, a new life.
I watched in wonder, smiling at the hope it signalled.
Though it was stripped bare, denuded off every leaf and branch, it had come
around and started afresh – because it was firmly, deeply rooted. Had its roots
not gone deep, it would have given way and probably withered to death.
While it gave me renewed hope that I too could start
afresh, it reminded me of the necessity of being rooted in one’s core values.
That alone would help me withstand the crazy, unexpected storms of life and get
back to my feet every time life served a hard blow. No wonder the Beatles sang,
‘The deeper you go, the higher you fly.’
