How the peepal was saved

ON my way back home after a morning walk, I spotted a crowd near the majestic peepal tree that has stood sentinel over my village for generations. I preferred not to stop, telling myself that it was none of my business. Later that day, I got to know that certain local residents had conspired to fell the tree on some pretext, which was a fig leaf to conceal their greed.

Anxiety gnawed at my heart. A flood of memories rushed through my mind. This tree had borne witness to myriad tales of sorrows and joys of our village for decades. Under its sturdy branches, women would joyously sing and swing during the Teej festival. The night weighed heavily upon me as I recalled the countless hours of my childhood spent playing hide and seek in its generously embracing branches. How could I, who had shared so much with this venerable friend, become so indifferent?

Driven by a fierce determination, I hurried to the sarpanch’s house to inform him of the impending tragedy. He listened intently and assured me of his unwavering support. The following day, I reached the scene without delay, where I found the conspirators eagerly awaiting the arrival of woodcutters; a tractor was there to haul away the remnants of the tree. A heated exchange ensued as my appeals fell on deaf ears. In response to my mounting distress, the sarpanch was summoned to help postpone the planned ‘execution’ of the tree. Soon after, the panchayat was convened; some of the village’s wise elders gathered. My impassioned arguments succeeded in stirring their empathy, but the fear of incurring the wrath of their neighbours stifled their will to avert the tree’s tragic fate.

I found myself alone as the sarpanch, usually courageous, proved to be a chicken-hearted person. But as the situation became grave, he summoned resolve and proclaimed that he would take the issue to the executive magistrate of the city.

On D-Day, both groups entered the magistrate’s chamber, armed with their arguments and figures. After deliberations, we were sent outside while the records were examined. When the magistrate finally came out, he delivered his pronouncement: “Dear villagers, since the peepal tree stands on land belonging to the panchayat, no individual has the right to lay claim to it. Anyone who attempts to interfere shall face legal action. The tree has to remain there, come what may.”

I heaved a sigh of relief as we dispersed amid the twilight. I ran to my beloved peepal to seek forgiveness. In that moment, it seemed as if the tree expressed gratitude for the life I had fought to save. Nature thus triumphed in its battle for survival, and I felt immense fulfilment in having been its humble defender.

Musings