By Geetanjali Sharma
As I recline on the recliner with my laptop screen turned dim, at the hour of roaring bikes and speeding cars on the main road, all that I fortunately hear are the ticking of a wall clock, baby snores and a guitar playing in the other room.
The wallpaper is a picture I took back in 2018 on a solo trip to Sunshine Coast, a slow scenic town in Australia. The pier on the screen reminds me of the quaint walk I took while taking in the glorious beauty of the never-ending stormy sky sheltering the ocean. The tides grew stronger as the clouds grew thicker at a distance, building a perfect plot for a shot from the ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’.
‘Dramatic but Real’, I had captioned the picture, to showcase the drama nature stages around us. Be it the ocean chasing its own end or the wild protecting their fate from the mightier, it is a sight to experience nature unabated – a scene no director can capture.
With the windy evenings making the leaves rustle outside the window, I find myself admiring the beauty of massive trees, older than the oldest people in town, lining either side of the road. Trying to escape through the layer of pollution, protecting the ecosystem, these pillars of nature with glistening leaves and seasonal flowers tower over most homes, with patience and pride.
While most stand tall, some trees are seen branching and bending all the way to ‘the other side’ of the eighty-foot-wide road, supporting the companion tree and shading the passerby. Such a ‘tree tunnel’ reminds me of an elder sibling guarding, sheltering and supporting their younger one in the hope to grow old together in harmony.
Nights have a changed meaning for us. They begin with a calming lullaby, are interrupted by a sharp squeal and end with a gentle ‘good morning’, sometimes at three in the morning and at other times around five. Like most other parents, we too have had to give in to the sweetest and saddest expressions, wanting and giving all that we can to comfort baby moods, all day, every day.
Nightly drives have become a routine. It was just yesterday, when we were driving that I closely noticed and realised the glory of our city also lies in the mighty trees of mango and silver oak that line the roads. Time, nutrition from the fertile land and the love each tree has taken to grow into a masterpiece, boggles the mind. Such gigantic trunks making many necks bend to see their tops make me wonder about the times they have lived through – the stories they must hold, the secrets they must never forget and hope to carry to be a part of our future.
As the season permits nowadays, our lunches are often in the lawn under the canopy, shading us from the sharp sun. With an orderless schedule, as and when I can, I do grab my seat at the table. And almost every time our minds and hearts reach out to the ‘expensive’ natural heritage we often take for granted on our beautiful Rajpur drive. The number of greens which had to see the end of light just for concrete structures to make their way up the hill town is unimaginable. The Rajpur massif and a few hundred left on the either side of the road will have to make for the thousands cut in development projects. The ‘green projects’, which claim to plant more trees than they fell, cannot be equated to the transcendently impressive trees which were at least a few decades old.
As I type this with zero keyboard volume, I look outside and notice a family of four monkeys walking on a humongous branch of the mango tree. It bows to the other side of the eighty-foot road. Starting its journey as a sapling planted a hundred years back and growing with the family which has adorned it for generations, it has now entered commercial territory. Although its roots are still intact, I hope the other side sees its beauty and retains its magnificence, and the troop of monkeys gets to climb and move across the road without any fear.
Even if the tree doesn’t find the hope it once looked for by naturally creating a botanic tunnel, the selfless act of nature has certainly made way for another species to find ease and comfort. That’s how our selfless deeds work out too, sometimes more for someone in greater need.
Next time as you drive through this canopy of trees, appreciate the way nature makes everything look a tad bit more beautiful!
Geetanjali Sharma is an author and communications specialist. She holds a post-graduate in international communication from Macquaire University Australia.
