The Guava Tree
It was all about that ominous, odd-looking guava tree which created such a hue and cry in my household. There it stood, sturdy and robust, close to the boundary wall, just in front of the main door of my building. I don’t know when it sprouted, but it all came out of its own and I first felt its abrupt existence when it took a visible shape, two years ago. It was just a tender sapling, shooting its sumptuous pair of stems up the wall. In those days I could not resist the temptation to look at its green and slender shape. It bewitched my attention time and again. Was it the poet in me or the love for the innocents that pulled me down to the steps? There I would squat for hours together, watching and mulling over that mysterious plant alone. And what were my reflections? Perhaps I was dreaming of a time when it would acquire a pleasant shape with big ripe fruits hanging all over and casting a soothing shade around. How poetic!
Yes. My musings came true. Now it grew so big and wide that its thick dark foliage made a perpetual canopy over the whole yard and half of the roof. Except summer, the land under it always remained damp and soggy. Big luscious fruits studded its branches all the year round. At first we ate the fruits eagerly but very soon all became sick of them. It seemed none could finish the fruits. Fresh flowers adorned the branches and brought further new fruits while others got matured, ripened and fell. During night, the nocturnal creatures made a delicious feast of them, dropping heaps of half-eaten snippets on the ground under. The fruits piled on the damp land of the yard and stank. Flies swarmed and buzzed all round, giving a sinister look to my front veranda. My wife became tired of clearing and tidying them up each morning. We happily allowed our neighbouring children to pluck and devour them. The children appeared, off and on, and especially in the early afternoon when my wife would have a sweet snooze and disturbed her out of the happy reverie. She endured it silently because we wanted to get rid of those ominous fruits. But the fruits seemed to be inexhaustible; the more we plucked the more they grew. My wife spent a good part of her valuable time to pluck a bagful of them and presented them to whoever guest visited us.
Though all these tedious business cost a lot and paid nothing in return, yet we did it. The whole purpose was to remove the fruits and keep the yard clean. But the undaunted spirit of the tree seemed to read our thoughts. Every time we plucked and vacated the branches, the tree replenished the loss with a fresh supply. So ultimately we gave up fighting and accepted defeat. It was then that my wife and I took a stern decision- cut down the tree- a nip in the bud. No tree no fruits. And that’s all about it.
The next Sunday morning, an axe was asked for and I resolutely got ready to chop up the tree. But as I raised the axe, my attention was distracted to a shrill creak at the gate. It was the milkman who burst out showing his betel-red row of teeth.
“Are you up to pluck the guavas, sir? What an amazing lush of a tree! The guavas so delicious! I want some of them. May I have them sir?”
“O, yes, yes, of course! As many as you like.” I said. The axe dropped from my hand. The man climbed up the tree, while I got busy in the household.
In the afternoon when I tried for the second time, the same interruption occurred by an unexpected visitor. The whole day went futile without being able to sever it down.The next day I went to my office as usual but all through the day, my mind was heavy with the image of that tree. It was all the while busy, drawing up conclusions and consequences. In the evening, when I returned to my morbid home, I found my wife crumpled with perplexity. I decided to finish up the job in the darkness of the night.
Late in the night, when the whole world was asleep, I woke up once for all. Hurricane in hand, my wife came by as I seized up the axe and made for the tree stealthily. In a realm of quietness, the tree seemed to be in deep slumber. A queer serenity had descended into its fruit burdened foliage. With murder in heart, I raised the axe. For, I wanted to give it a sure and a final blow. “Thud”… “thud”… a something heavy and mysterious jumped down.
“Oh..h..h..h, ghost, ghost”, yelled my wife and in a great fright she hurtled back. The hurricane was flung to a distance and shattered. It was darkness again. I could not see exactly what it was. But, ultimately, I realized that there was something, some invisible spirit that was trying to safeguard the tree.
Being overpowered once again, I tuned back to my room and tried to have a wink of sleep, forgetting the whole business. But there in the yard and in my mind the tree stood obdurate and invincible. I was too perturbed to sleep and could only lay awake in my bed.
“Thud”…”thud” the sound came again. Being curious I opened the window out into the Moonlit night. Ah! What did I see? Among the thick foliage of the guava tree, were hundreds of bats, hanging in snooze after a bellyful of the dinner. From the secured niche of my window, a big wild cat stalked and jumped frantically at them, only to thud back on the ground. The bats perched themselves safely, high in their arboreal abode, far out of its ferocious reach. Far from being scared, they seemed to rest in unruffled slumber. What a nice home to sleep in!
Soon as the day dawned, the bats flapped out of their nocturnal cradle and vanished in the hazy sky above. The cat retreated back to the dark alcove in search of mice. The guava tree stood vacant for a few moments, only to burst out again into a busy market with the approach of morning light. Numerous birds, nameless but cute, arrived from all directions and occupied its tender boughs. The squirrels squeaked up and down the tree. Flies, insects and bees buzzed around and whizzed in noisy circles. The butterflies flapped their vibrant wings. A bedlam of twitters, squeals, scampers and numerous sly rustles filled the air. The vibrations of life pervaded into all directions, declaring its undying existence.
I had not witnessed such a vivacious society as I saw now. Just beyond my window was flickering an endless play of life! A callous man I was, to be proud of my concrete building that accommodated a few of us. But this poor guava tree that was to receive a brutal blow of my axe, was in fact, a gigantic asylum that provided not only food, shelter and playfield but also a worthy home to infinite sparkles of life.
For some time, I sat speechless and exhausted, as if, an inner turmoil had withdrawn all my strength. Then slowly, with a deep sigh, I raised my crumbled body up and shuffled out. Outside, on the yard was lying my axe, as if, staring at me derisively. Before one could notice, I seized it in both my hands and flung it far out into the trash beyond.
•By Rabindra Nath Das
TGT (Eng), JNV, Salbani
PO-Dhanpur, Via-K.C.Pur
Dist-Mayurbhanj, PIN-757029
(Orissa)
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