Tree Spotting

When I was at school, we had regular class tests. My guardian would take out my textbook while I was in the car and quiz me. She would read out the chapter to me. If I could not answer verbatim, I would be slapped and rebuked, “Dumb girl!” In her school, teachers would give more marks to those who wrote answers word for word as they were printed in the textbook.

We would travel in a car along with our cousins to school. My intention was to view the world outside the car window, especially the treetops. I wanted to check out the birds and their nests.

When I could not achieve an A+, my guardian would jeer at me, “You are so immature! Mature girls want to score more marks and revise lessons in the car. You observe the nests of birds like a child. Are you in nursery?”

A childhood should ideally be spent under the shade of trees, climbing and nurturing them. Tree watching should not be shamed or punished. Our rapport with trees should continue lifelong. What a blessing it is to sit under a tree that an ancestor planted!

My guardian would mock me, “All you find are the nests of crows on trees. What happiness do you get from seeing the nests of these dirty birds?”

I replied, “Sometimes I see the nests of eagles and vultures too. I try to identify the birds and match their nests according to what I have learned in Science at school.”

My guardian snapped, “As if this will get you more marks in all subjects at school. You go to school only to get marks. I am ashamed of you because you do not get the highest marks.”

When my father was alive, I would study each and every tree in our garden with him. After he died, I was only allowed to memorise about trees from textbooks, but not to share a rapport with them.

How many of us observe the trees we pass by and that surround us? Can we identify them?

Much of our greenery has been destroyed. The deep green cover on the Atlas of India indicating the forest belt has shrunk drastically. Many find flimsy reasons to fell trees. These people, however, memorise at school that we should plant trees and save them.

What is so immature about observing trees? As an adult, I am no longer scolded or shamed by a guardian for studying them.

I feel a sense of tranquillity when I am near them. It is lovely to see the birds that perch there, the squirrels that scurry up, the cats that scratch their nails on them, light dancing on the leaves, breeze blowing through the foliage, old brown leaves dashing to the ground when a rough wind rustles them, tender green leaves taking birth on the branches, new flowers unfurling their buds, and the moody sky as a backdrop.

My heart leaps when I spot the first mango of summer budding on the mango tree in our building’s compound. Somewhere within its dense canopy, a cuckoo sings its summer song. I glide my hand against the tree bark. It is lovely to imagine how the tapestry of roots of various trees shake hands beneath the soil.

Answer truthfully:

1. How many of us notice the trees around us?

2. What kind of relationship do we share with them?

3. Do we want to know the history of the trees in our garden, building, or neighbourhood?

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