If there’s anyone truly atmanirbhar, it’s got to be a tree

Some years ago, in the garden we put a terribly flimsy curry patta sapling in the ground, and very casually buried a mango seed in one of the flower beds. The curry patta sapling was so delicate it looked like it would fall over if you breathed too hard on it.  The mango seed disappeared underground, out of sight and out of mind! Since, then the former has been providing us a non-stop supply of curry patta for curries and stews, and I’m hoping the mango will burst into flower if not this year, then next!

But then, each and every tree, and each and every green plant is a monumental achievement of Mother Nature and something we’re so quick to forget. From something the size of a full stop, using only minerals from the soil, air, sunlight and water, (and no microchips that have to be imported from China), this living structure grows, without a sound, making its own food, setting itself up on a solid structure of wood – which again, we can’t manufacture in any factory – and giving out a life-giving gas for the rest of all life on earth, besides providing a massive air-conditioning unit. True, it may take its time to grow but once it is up, it will provide for all other living creatures – not only food and drink (like langda mangoes and “tender” coconut water!) but also housing for a vast variety of living creatures, from ants to harpy eagles. We may be able to facilitate the process of its growing – by giving it TLC – but we cannot manufacture a readymade tree in a factory, much less wood.

When growing thickly together as in rainforests, trees even make their own weather, producing clouds and downpours, thus recycling precious water every day. Dead leaves decompose, providing nourishment for those that are starting life high up in the canopy. They are truly atmanirbhar!

All those planners who are so quick to decide to “chop it down!” need to spend some serious time beneath one of their proposed victims and think about what this entity has achieved in its lifetime (usually far more than they have!). All without fuss or strikes or demands for salary hikes! By and large, it can deal with troublemakers too, arming itself with poisons, thorns and prickles – but alas for it, its nuclear Armageddon comes in the shape of a power saw, or axe – which we are so quick to wield.

Oh yes, we keep piously promising that for every tree we cut, 10 will be planted in its place so the world will be a greener place eventually, but surely it would be more honest, to first let those 10 trees grow to maturity, before taking down the one that we have condemned! No one ever follows up the fate of the 10 trees planted after the event! And transplanting trees is a tricky business, with often abysmal survival rates.

Certainly, we are not going to stop cutting down trees or hacking off boughs, but we need a wholesale change in our mindset to both practices. Would you bulldoze the Taj Mahal just because it came in the way of some fancy new expressway project? (Well, judging by the manic way bulldozers are being used, who knows!)  Would you amputate a limb just so you can have a little more sun in winter (and then complain in summer, that there’s no shade)? We’re far too quick to give the death sentence to an entity whose only crime has been to be present somewhere that is only now – after being here for years on end – apparently getting in our way.

Nature freaks go gaga over the spiritual qualities of trees and the wonderful things they can do for the soul. I don’t know about that, but I do know, being in the company of trees is far better than being in the company of most people! It’s cooler, quieter, and there are any number of life-stories being lived out in the canopy which you can watch and be entertained by: Mynas and parakeets having a massive property dispute over a hollow in a bough, the palash and semul throwing nectar and pollen parties to all comers until rosy starlings rudely gatecrash; mahuas even serving alcohol to langurs, bears and elephants till they’re happily tiddled!

More than that, trees force us to be generous: Some years back, I was left scratching my head, wondering what to do when confronted with perhaps 25 kg of bananas that presented themselves suddenly on the trees in the garden: all I could eat was one banana a day – and how many banana chips can you consume? (Even the monkeys couldn’t make a dent in this largesse!) So, naturally you gave the rest away because you couldn’t bear to see them go waste, and because, in the circle of life, you must always give more than you take. Trees always knew that.