A Tale of Two Trees
Sometimes trees can tell us the true story of life and relationships.
Long ago, a humble landlord dwelled in a small lush green village called ‘Sabzpur’. His name was ‘Jamal’. He lived with his old mother, a sturdy wife and two sons. ‘Ali’, the elder of the two was in his early teens. Teens is a complex age so was the relationship between the father and his son. The peaceful life of the village was flowing smooth until a new city sprouted in the near vicinity. It was sluggish in progress but expanded rather quickly along the grant trunk road; the only major highway in the country at that time. The village started to house a variety of people since the birth of the new city. The landlord did not mind accommodating some newcomers in his immediate neighborhood. A farmer already dwelled on one side of his mud bound hut and there came to live a factory laborer on the other. The village did taste some luxuries of progress. A few huts replaced mud and stones with cement and bricks including the landlord’s house. A metaled road knocked at their doors bringing some goods, riches, population diversity and of course some mixed air of shady thoughts for the villagers. The landlord and his family did not notice but they breathed it too.
Days went by; routines got tough as the city asserted some increasing burden on food crops and live-stocks of the village. On the other hand, the laborer’s son became a fast friend of Ali. Both started spending time together. Ali got impressed with some new ventures they could do in city like watching movies, hanging around in parks and drinking sodas. Jamal’s wife also knitted good ties with the family of the laborer. She was awed by their urban exaggerations, colorfully stitched pieces of clothes and some broken yet shimmery décor. Somehow, the landlord despised his new neighbor. Not because he was a laborer but a few of his habits like throwing of garbage outside his house irritated him. So, he loathed the laborer’s son as well, who would help his father carry that garbage sack every morning. Above all, his angry thoughts got flared up as he once caught Ali smoking his first cigarette on his way back from the city with the laborer’s son. Every passing day Jamal’s behavior at home grew harsher. Ali almost had a beating from him. The poor lad began to look for corners to hide himself whenever he saw his father coming home.
The mud boundary wall of the landlord’s house had two chinaberry trees at his entrance. These were growing well and soon their shade would converge into an arch gate. But Jamal got a feeling that branches of the tree towards the laborer’s hut were not flourishing as he had wished.
“Why is this tree so slow in spreading out branches to shade my gate while the other is good?” he conjectured.
“No wonder, since this laborer has become my new neighbor, he is molding everything towards himself”, he murmured to himself.
One day, he started off his journey towards the crops fields and his foot tripped over something unusual. He had been walking this path since years and he could blindly dodge any pit or hump on the way right up to the tube-well that honked day and night at the center of his cultivations. Then what had come out of the earth to make him stumble to an almost sudden fall? He carefully looked around him. There was a bulky tree root that had made its way up to the ground. He anxiously started following it and traced its way to its possible origin. And there it was, as he expected.
The root had sprout out from the same tree at his entrance that was shying to shade his gate. Above that, it was growing its roots towards another tree beside the laborer’s hut. Jamal made an anguished groan. His gradually kindling hatred for the laborer converged all its weight onto that tree alone. He was infuriated. He decided to chop this portion of the roots so the tree should stop expanding towards his neighbor and grow deeper and opposite towards his own entrance. So, he axed that out.
A few days later, he tripped again at the same point, oblivious of the fact that the same root had regrown. He cut it deeper this time. But to his surprise it kept growing back again and again in the same trail. Jamal could not bear it any longer. In the mid of the day when sun was shining with its full grandeur, he went into his house to get the axe so he could puff out his anger with blows at the poor tree.
When his mother saw him in such a rush and rage, she got cautious. She got hold of her walking stick and followed her son, trying to stop him with her weak but shrilly voice.
Huffing, she said, “What has happened, Jamal? Why you seem so upset?” she inquired; bewildered by his behavior.
“Nothing, Maa! I just need to get rid of this tree. It won’t shade our gate and I don’t need it”, Jamal replied exasperatedly as he felt betrayed by a simple tree.
The old lady had observed Jamal’s demeanor for some time now and she was astute enough to understand the real irking causes of Jamal’s vexation. So, she decided to politely talk her son out of this desperate act while sowing a tinny seed of thought in his mind.
“Why to cut this tree Jamal? Why not to dig some more soil between both the trees at the entrance?” said the sage lady.
Jamal suddenly froze in his feet and turned to his mother who was now trying to catch her breath as she also stopped following him. Confused by his mother’s remarks Jamal irately replied, “But why to dig more? I already know where the roots are going and I don’t want to waste my time on that.” “There is no harm in giving a try, Jamal”, his mother insisted.
So, Jamal started digging between the trees. “Dig a little deep dear”, the wise lady continued her counsel. He had just swung away a few more shovels full of dirt that he struck something hard and then something brittle like plastic. The feeling was mixed. “Is it a rock or garbage?” he thought. Soon he could figure it out. The place was full of construction scrap, plastic sheets and bags. Probably the civil contractor did not care where the leftover materials and waste was dumped by his laborers after the renovation Jamal had asked for last year. So the city did not bring the road and stringent air with it but it brought garbage and plastic also. A few root ends were caught up and could not grow because all fertile soil had gone. Now, Jamal could see what his mother was trying to make him see.
“Trees are like family, Jamal. They can grow high and spread branches anywhere but their roots will stay with you until you have faith in them, water them, let them grow and grow with them.” The frail mum continued.
“Sometimes they may shed leaves and seem pale but then you got to stay even closer, share the frost and know in yourself that they will bear flowers and new greener leaves. And if they start moving their roots out; do remember what you got to do?”
“Yes; dig deep.” Jamal replied.
“Yes, you dig deep even if it hurts a bit. You may be able to understand, absorb and forgive to strengthen anything that had gone weak.”
Jamal sipped up his anger. Still in awe for his mother’s unexpected prudence he removed all unwanted material and filled fertile soil between the two trees. Later the trees grew dense and hugged each other over his gate exactly as Jamal had wished.
At night on dinner Jamal kissed his mother’s hands and thanked her for saving himself from an act that could just bring him grief and sadness. His behavior changed. He started spending more time with Ali and even went to see a film at the city where he just slept but Ali enjoyed. But this was not all. The trees had taught him more. He gathered people of his village and they passed a resolution to become true ‘tree huggers’ with proper arrangements for keeping the pollution away, may it be material or mental or both :).
Happy Reading.
