My house, 100 years ago was a tree
By: Nitya Muralidharan
Tags: Nature, Conflict, Life, Environment, Trees

My house, 100 years ago was a tree

Recently I bought a piece of land in a nice green patch, neatly laid roads, fresh grass and trees spattered around, and the occasional grazing cows, and chirpy bird sounds. It was the picture of perfection. Nitya Muralidharan Dec 13, 2020·5 min read

And laid out there neatly was my plot. Marked by a founding stone, there it lay my own land of 1300 Square feet. But in the center of the plot stood a Gulmohar tree. Gulmohar tree was one of my friends as a child, and I went down to say a friendly hi. The Tree gently swayed and I heard a hello.

Gulmohar in all it’s glory

“So, you own this plot now ?” asked the old tree

“Yes,” I said proudly

“Then you own me too ?” asked Gulmohar

It got me thinking for a moment, the tree was there before I bought the plot, so I was not sure if I did own it, and it felt strange owning a friend, Gulmohar and I had traded secrets as children. The conversations which felt too silly to have with an adult were always easy to have with Gulmohar. Gulmohar in turn shreds its fiery red petals whenever it felt too strong an emotion. And most times I think Gulmohar was angry or sad. But occasionally when it was happy there would be a gentle sway that Gulmohar would do, similar to a human dance.

One day the people in my neighborhood, decided to cut Gulmohar, they said its branches were snapping the electric lines, I was horrified, but there wasn’t much I could do as a child, I said bye to Gulmohar one last time, took as many petals as I could, saved it in my books and eventually became an adult.

Years went by, there were other trees planted, but they were not the same as Gulmohar, and now all those years later Gulmohar was standing in the middle of my plot, or maybe I was standing on Gulmohar’s roots.

“I do not own you, I believe you were there before me ?”

“Well that doesn’t matter now does it, What are you going to do now ?”

I had plans of constructing a small house for myself on this piece of land, I planned to have some small flowering trees around my house. The house was going to be my get-away. I would invite my friends and family over, host the occasional get-away for them, maybe have a small library.

But what about Gulmohar? Gulmohar was never a part of any of these plans, but it stood there now, tall and proud, and while I was watching it, it shred its fiery red petals, I didn’t know if it was sad or angry.

I came back home and I was restless the whole night, I saw my current house, a three-storeyed apartment in a new light, I could hear all the dead trees over whom my house would have been constructed years ago talking to me in the night.

A century ago Bangalore would have been covered by greenery, several friends like Gulmohar would have found a place in this city’s fabric, today sky-rise buildings raise their ugly heads in place of those beautiful trees. If trees could become ghosts I think each one of us would be haunted several times.

After a sleepless night, I went back to the plot, the tree stood there, old and proud as ever.

I had come up with a plan, I wanted to know what the tree thought about it

“I want to transplant you Gulmohar, within my plot if that is okay with you, it would be painful for a few hours, but it would be like going to the dentist, it would be painful as hell and you might question the whole thing for a while, but eventually it would make sense and you will still be a part of this land”

“That’s kind of you my dear, but I think my time has come, I am 24 years, it’s time for me to go! What’s a dentist by the way ?”

I showed all my teeth and said “ These are teeth, they sometimes land in trouble, and humans go to a Dentist to take care of the problem, on occasion an unwanted tooth might start growing, and so a dentist might have to pull it out”

“Oh, dear! I imagine that would be painful, it would be like someone was pulling me away from my roots”

“Exactly, but I guess trees no longer live if they are pulled away from their roots for a long time, but humans scrape through even if they lose a tooth”

“Sounds strange to me, I would rather call it a day and die, rather go through all of that. And so I would like to do the same dear, you can plant a baby sapling in my place, instead of transplanting someone of my age”

I left the plot that day feeling strange, I thought my transplanting idea would blow away the tree, but I was surprised by its reaction.

I did not do anything for a few months, but when I visited the site the next time, the tree was dead, its fiery red petals dried up, the bark of the tree broken and lying in pieces.

And then there were none

Maybe it was the tree’s age or maybe it was me.

As I drove back, I saw the landscape transform from big trees into huge buildings. And I could imagine how it would have happened over the years. Some trees dying like Gulmohar, some having to be pulled out forcefully so that we could walk around in our closed houses and complain about the rising pollution and the lack of oxygen and wondering where it all started.