Mom and dad built their house 30 years ago. At that time, dad brought four coconut trees from his native village and planted them at the four corners of the house. Two perished and the other two...they grew into tall trees giving shade, rustling in the wind, providing coconuts for years and years. Soon many houses were built around our house and the concrete jungle pressed that much closer to these two beings. When our house was being rebuilt 10 years ago, an excavation machine was brought to dig up the earth so that pillars could be added. It was then we saw how deep the roots had gone--perhaps deeper than the foundation of the surrounding houses and encompassing the earth underneath. Mighty roots which would create cracks in the compound walls, and sometimes break through the hard concrete. Falling coconuts breaking things underneath, creating tensions with neighbours. Minor irritants but...
Now, the time has come to say goodbye to them. They will be cut down tomorrow. It's difficult to imagine our house without these two guys, standing tall like guards, like companions, like friends. I wonder at them, at their emotions, at how they feel--to be felled. Do they weep? Do they feel sad at this sudden decision to cut short their lives? Or do they have a sense of resignation and acceptance? Maybe they'd have survived if there was a bigger space. Do they feel pain when they are cut? I'll miss their murmur which would greet me every time I climbed up the terrace. The sky, watched through the green leaves, will be poorer now without them.
But yes, their 30 year association with us, with our house ends...and there is a deep gratitude and an immense love towards them amidst the lingering sadness at their impending departure. I wish I could talk to them. Yes I can but I wish I could listen.
Kokkre bellooru...is the name that comes to mind everytime I watch kokkres(white storks) on my evening walks. Elegant birds, walking around cautiously, quick to peck at insects and lizards, ready to take off and fly. Kokkre belluru is famous for these migratory birds flocking around in thousands. Want to visit. And RanganaThittu!!! Travel....Travel...Travel...lots and lots of it. I'm waiting for something to explode into this aspect.
Now, the time has come to say goodbye to them. They will be cut down tomorrow. It's difficult to imagine our house without these two guys, standing tall like guards, like companions, like friends. I wonder at them, at their emotions, at how they feel--to be felled. Do they weep? Do they feel sad at this sudden decision to cut short their lives? Or do they have a sense of resignation and acceptance? Maybe they'd have survived if there was a bigger space. Do they feel pain when they are cut? I'll miss their murmur which would greet me every time I climbed up the terrace. The sky, watched through the green leaves, will be poorer now without them.
But yes, their 30 year association with us, with our house ends...and there is a deep gratitude and an immense love towards them amidst the lingering sadness at their impending departure. I wish I could talk to them. Yes I can but I wish I could listen.
Kokkre bellooru...is the name that comes to mind everytime I watch kokkres(white storks) on my evening walks. Elegant birds, walking around cautiously, quick to peck at insects and lizards, ready to take off and fly. Kokkre belluru is famous for these migratory birds flocking around in thousands. Want to visit. And RanganaThittu!!! Travel....Travel...Travel...lots and lots of it. I'm waiting for something to explode into this aspect.
Those tress,...Soft rustling,where like their singing notes!
ReplyDeleteSmiling moon light was always a shower of deep healing!
More than 30 years of associations is like a family bonding!
Surly, they would grow again in a better place where blooming in a natural space will be joyous experience!
Recognise them somewhere around after few years, if you can !... :D