The Withered Tree

It was always there, as long as I could remember, a small, emaciated tree, somewhat bent and with shriveled up branches. That was a summer with no hint of rains. I watched the tree, its leaves and above the few leaves the spider’s web hanging from a bare sickle-shaped branch.

I was fond of that tree. In my childhood, I used to climb the tree and hide in it while playing hide and seek. Sometimes I sat under it and watched squirrels playing together, chasing one another in my garden . Now the tree is getting old and so am I.

I remember clearly, a few years ago on a hot summer day, an old man came to rest under the tree. I saw the man lying under the tree and decided to ask him if he wanted water to drink. When I went to him, at first he got scared, he thought I was there to shoo him off. But his face lit up with joy when I asked him if he wanted water. He was very thin, his hair was snow-white and he had a long beard. He wore a white dhoti with a white dupatta on top, which covered only half of his body. Though he appeared to be poor, he was wearing a lot of rings. I assumed that he was an Astrologer. He looked very weak, as if he hadn’t eaten for weeks. His eyes were small and weary. Looking at his condition, I felt really sorry for him and asked him to stay and have lunch with me at my home. He agreed to come.

My home is too big and I live here alone, I did not sell it because it is my grandfather’s house and I have memories of this place that I cherish. I let the stranger sit in my kitchen. We had our meal and he seemed to enjoy it but did not ask for more. After lunch, I offered the man to stay for a while. I was somewhat curious to know about him. He did not speak much, all he had said till now was “thank you”. We sat in the living room and I started talking to him, telling him something about myself, in the hope that he would tell me something about himself too. I told him that I was very fond of the tree he was resting under earlier, to this he turned to me and smiled for the first time and said “The tree is also fond of you”. “Oh, so you can talk to trees?” I replied jokingly. “Yes, trees are living beings too. They do talk but you have to learn their language to understand them.”, he replied a little lost in his dreams, maybe remembering all the trees he had heard. Suddenly, his face became serious and he said in a sad tone “You are really attached to the tree, aren’t you?” I nodded, expressionless. By this time my curiosity had turned to fear and I had already promised myself not to invite strangers in my house so willingly. He stood up and started walking towards the door. I did not stop him. As he stopped to open the door, he turned back and said “your life is also attached to the tree son. Take good care of it.” I did not understand him at first, but when I did, I was horrified. I am not superstitious so I found no reason to believe him.

Couples of months later, one evening there was a very violent storm. The storm was so wild that I thought it would uproot the tree. I remembered what the old man has said and peeked through the window to see the condition of the tree. The storm had not done any damage to it till then. But suddenly one of its branches broke because of the massive wind. At that moment, I experienced a deep pain in my left arm and in a moment I knew that the old man was right. I tried not to think about it, took some pain killers, prayed to the God to save the tree and slept. The next morning, my arm was fine and so was the tree. From that day I treated the tree with a lot of care and made sure I was watering it enough.

Now when I look at the tree, it looks old and weak, just like me. I wonder whether both of us will really die together or was it just my mind who is to be held responsible for the pain in my arm that night.