The tree and I

The charade is played out every World Environment Day (June 5th),in countless organisations. A photo op, with senior officials holding a wilted sapling ,putting some soil sparingly and finally drenching it with newly bought shiny plastic watercan. The sapling doesn't survive beyond a week.

Another snapshot is that of the hundreds of trees uprooted after a fierce storm recently.
That torments me.

A humble request...plant a tree ,any tree, this season and look after it.

The Tree and I

The slender stem stood confident,
My steps were shaky and diffident,
I wobbled to stay upright,
Though we were of same height.
The tree and I.

Branches arranged in orderly whorls,
I pranced with a mop of curls,
Delicate leaves in perfect symmetry,
My chubby hands touched with glee.
The tree grew a bit.

Summers passed ,and time flew,
Boughs got denser before I knew,
My red shoes changed to black,
Heavy books filled my shoulder sack.
The tree grew taller.

Parrots, mynahs ,and cuckoo,
Their chorus rang all day through,
Yellow florets mesmerized me,
Inviting hordes of buzzing bees.
The tree grew sturdier.

Sun filtered through verdant lattice,
Grass beneath grew in patches,
Back to the trunk, and book in hand,
I sailed into utopian land.
The tree flourished.

Then, wise men armed with skills,
Came to put away dust and ills,
They built around, a concrete noose,
Biting, stifling, not at all loose.
The tree was stunned.

Leaf by leaf the pain dripped ,
Baring brown and foliage stripped,
My suitcases packed, I went away,
To join ,what life held in fray.
The tree wept.

Naked, but valiant it stood guard,
Its arm stretching heavenward,
Braving storms and squalls,
One night ,it took a fall.
The tree died.

Some silver has sneaked into my hair,
I look out of the window in despair,
The luxuriant green I so adored,
My majestic tree is no more.
I grieve, I mourn.