It was a quiet night. Mira was preparing dinner while merrily singing songs. After all it was not everyday that her little sister visited her. In fact, it was a very rare chance for her. Rick, her husband was sitting on the couch in the living room, watching highlights of an old cricket match on TV.

A quiet family, they have been married for 5 years now. They are often asked about their plans on starting a family. The topic always makes Mira sour. She doesn’t hate kids, it’s just that due to a huge age gap between her and her kid sister, she has had to take care of Jane all this time, constantly cancelling her plans. The only reason she agreed to marry Rick was that he was just as uncomfortable with the thought of having kids. They had nothing much in common other than their dislike for taking responsibility. They constantly bickered and fought over everything. But today, Mira was paying no attention to Rick’s annoying habits. She was looking forward to meet Jane after all these years. She had been worried about her. Jane was performing badly in her studies and seemed to be unhappy in her personal life as well. She had been rebellious for years, refusing to open up about her problems to anyone in the family. Mira held herself responsible for this. She should have taken better care of her sister, she thinks. She has planned to talk to Jane properly this time. Thinking about how to start the conversation without making Jane uncomfortable, Mira continued cooking.

It was already 8 by the time Mira finished cooking. “Change into something proper, Jane should be here in an hour” she said to Rick. Rick didn’t understand why he had to get dressed. They had a small fight over it and finally Rick changed into a shirt and trouser. “This is ridiculous, it’s just her younger sister”, he thought to himself. His grumbling was interrupted by the phone’s ringing. Mira went to answer it and Rick stood in the hallway listening to the conversation.

“Hello, yes I am Mira Sen…. Yes, she is my sister”. Mira’s face turned white all of a sudden and she dropped the phone. Rick rushed towards her, He asked her what happened, but she still seemed to be in a shock and didn’t answer. Rick noticed that the phone was still connected. He picked it up, there was a woman on the other side. The woman told him that the flight Jane was travelling in, crashed while landing. Jane was admitted to the hospital she was calling from, and was in critical condition. Rick quickly noted the address of the hospital. Mira had started crying by this time. Rick took the car keys, held Mira’s hand and rushed out of the house. He drove as fast as he could, while Mira tried to stop her tears.

At the hospital, they were asked to wait outside the operation room in which Jane was being operated on. Mira sat on the bench, crying. Rick sat right next to her, staring at the floor. He kept looking at Mira time to time, thinking about what he should say to her. Should he tell her it will be okay? No, how can he be sure if it will all be okay, it might just give Mira false hope. Maybe he should tell her that he is there for her. No, that is lame. He is her husband after all, of course he will be there. This was exactly the kind of situation Rick did not know how to handle. He tend to run away from any situation which had too much emotion involved. He kept staring at the floor thinking about all the lame things he should not say to Mira.

They waited for about an hour after which the surgeon came out. Mira rushed towards him. “How is Jane now?”, she asked with a red face and watery eyes. “She is out of danger but she has gone in a coma. Sorry, we don’t know how much time it might take for her to recover from the coma.”, he replied. Mira was just staring at the surgeon, not sure on how to react. She was feeling relieved knowing that Jane was out of danger. “The child is safe however, you don’t need to worry about it. Not a single injury”, he continued with a smile. Mira looked at her husband as she could no longer understand the language, the surgeon was using. Rick stepped in. “What child?”, he asked with a surprised expression. “The patient is pregnant. I am sorry, I thought you knew that already.”

It took them a few minutes, but after Mira and Rick recovered from this shock, they finally went to see Jane. She was lying down on the bed, unconscious. Her face was covered with injuries, but it still looked peaceful. Rick’s gaze kept moving to Jane’s belly, which was a little swollen. Mira kept looking at her face with tears rolling down her cheeks. Both of them kept staring from a distance, unable to gather enough courage to touch her.

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.