The way you and I behave in the parks is quite objectionable to the GREENS. The pic here is courtesy Fun-mazaa.by K. Rajbir Deswal
Having jogged a bit hard in the Town Park, I stopped under the lonely, holy and aged Peepal tree to stabilise my breathing. “Hey, you humans are strange creatures!” I heard from nowhere when I looked at a pattern of falling bark on the trunk of the Peepal. “Are you a speaking tree?” I asked and observed a smile flashing on the tree-face. You may call it wooden, but I will not, since it had emotions, expressions and was enormously animated.
“You all are here everyday and still do not greet one another. Rather, you brush past as if by the side of a log, on encountering someone, menacingly brisk-walking on his doctor’s advice. You seem to spare no winks and smiles for each other. You do not exchange even a kind of tokenism of your supplemental existence,” the speaking tree was quite candid in his observations and expression of disgust.
“And what else have you observed about us, the human beings,” I asked trying to restrict the curve of my smile when pat came the suggestion: “Now stand for a while and look at the one who is cutting corners literally and also the other one who does not go faithfully on the curved walking track and rather strays off tangent for a short cut. What for? To save some distance? To cheat oneself! Fools.” The speaking tree was full of contempt at the behavior of the ‘park pals’ — an expression he did not agree with since he had not seen any bonding between those who come daily to walk in the park.
I stood speechless when again the Peepal nitpicked, “Now look at them. They are three of them. A man and two women in tow. I can have a bet that they will never walk from under the wire mesh shed, loaded with green creepers, but will ‘bypass’ it. Is it not pleasurable walking in that airy, shadowy, green arcade purpose-made only for them to have a more idyllic feel!”
The speaking tree had hardly concluded when I saw exactly the same thing happening in front of me. I chuckled and kept mum with my breathing being restored slowly but my eyes becoming heavier with inability to face the tree-face due to some kind of guilt experienced.
“Tell me something good and heartwarming speaking tree since you know it is very rare that one hears such pithy stuff,” I tried to digress and seek a real philosophical intervention from the “Mighty Seer” for he might still go ahead with his banter against those who litter, spit and soil the parks, what the environmentalists call the lungs in urban habitations. “All I can recall are the stories of sweat and toil my dear!” speaking tree said with some lament laced in his comment.
“Sweat and toil? Sorry, I didn’t quite follow it.” I sought an elaboration. “All I wish to say is that once upon a time the farmer and tiller of this land used to sweat out here to earn his bread and spare a lot for others as well. But nowadays the likes of you sweat it out here but only seeking to maintain appropriate levels of your blood pressure, sugar and cholesterol etc. But you are still better of the lot,” speaking tree said to me. “How come you are so kind to me?” I asked. “At least you are listening to me while all others pay no heed.”
I took leave of the speaking tree quite pampered. But aren’t great souls known to pamper and preach. Take heed O’ Homo sapiens.
The Tribune carried this middle on January 2'2008. Click title to see.
Having jogged a bit hard in the Town Park, I stopped under the lonely, holy and aged Peepal tree to stabilise my breathing. “Hey, you humans are strange creatures!” I heard from nowhere when I looked at a pattern of falling bark on the trunk of the Peepal. “Are you a speaking tree?” I asked and observed a smile flashing on the tree-face. You may call it wooden, but I will not, since it had emotions, expressions and was enormously animated.
“You all are here everyday and still do not greet one another. Rather, you brush past as if by the side of a log, on encountering someone, menacingly brisk-walking on his doctor’s advice. You seem to spare no winks and smiles for each other. You do not exchange even a kind of tokenism of your supplemental existence,” the speaking tree was quite candid in his observations and expression of disgust.
“And what else have you observed about us, the human beings,” I asked trying to restrict the curve of my smile when pat came the suggestion: “Now stand for a while and look at the one who is cutting corners literally and also the other one who does not go faithfully on the curved walking track and rather strays off tangent for a short cut. What for? To save some distance? To cheat oneself! Fools.” The speaking tree was full of contempt at the behavior of the ‘park pals’ — an expression he did not agree with since he had not seen any bonding between those who come daily to walk in the park.
I stood speechless when again the Peepal nitpicked, “Now look at them. They are three of them. A man and two women in tow. I can have a bet that they will never walk from under the wire mesh shed, loaded with green creepers, but will ‘bypass’ it. Is it not pleasurable walking in that airy, shadowy, green arcade purpose-made only for them to have a more idyllic feel!”
The speaking tree had hardly concluded when I saw exactly the same thing happening in front of me. I chuckled and kept mum with my breathing being restored slowly but my eyes becoming heavier with inability to face the tree-face due to some kind of guilt experienced.
“Tell me something good and heartwarming speaking tree since you know it is very rare that one hears such pithy stuff,” I tried to digress and seek a real philosophical intervention from the “Mighty Seer” for he might still go ahead with his banter against those who litter, spit and soil the parks, what the environmentalists call the lungs in urban habitations. “All I can recall are the stories of sweat and toil my dear!” speaking tree said with some lament laced in his comment.
“Sweat and toil? Sorry, I didn’t quite follow it.” I sought an elaboration. “All I wish to say is that once upon a time the farmer and tiller of this land used to sweat out here to earn his bread and spare a lot for others as well. But nowadays the likes of you sweat it out here but only seeking to maintain appropriate levels of your blood pressure, sugar and cholesterol etc. But you are still better of the lot,” speaking tree said to me. “How come you are so kind to me?” I asked. “At least you are listening to me while all others pay no heed.”
I took leave of the speaking tree quite pampered. But aren’t great souls known to pamper and preach. Take heed O’ Homo sapiens.
The Tribune carried this middle on January 2'2008. Click title to see.
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