The Banyan Grandma

THE BANYAN GRANDMA

BY: DEBAPRASAD MUKHERJEE

The house lay abandoned since long; at least since Pintu and his friends have been seeing it. They pass by the house at least twice a day on school days; while going to and coming back from their school after their rigorous attempts at learning.

In spite of their painstaking efforts the goddess of learning hasn’t smiled kindly on them, at least thus far. Pintu and Rony are in class five, and Suman, Rony’s sister, is in class four. A variety of subjects intrigue them excepting those in print in their school books.

That’s the reason they enjoy the trip back home in the evenings more than that in the mornings on their way to school. It was one such evening. To be exact, it was only half past four. The setting sun was still left with some time. Karimganj is a place that hovers between being a town and a village. No one could define its status exactly.

It is a walk of half an hour to home, but the brats make sure it takes at least double the time. And why not? That inviting and affordable snack-shop on the way, a stray puppy to cuddle, butterflies and dragon flies to be caught and left, watching a lone fisherman netting silvery fishes from the lake- everything contributed to the delay.

In spite of strong desire they refrained from entering the abandoned house. It is said to be haunted. Even they believe it just by its look. It’s bit away from nearby habitations, the house proper is dilapidated to the effect of a pile of bricks and metals. The wooden gate of the surrounding compound along with the boundary has been virtually non existent over the years. Only thing that flourished are the bushes and the trees, and scattered termite mounds.

“Let’s venture into the house,” suggested Pintu that evening.

“Crazy or what?” Grimaced Suman in her nasal tone due to a perpetual dripping nose. “Don’t you realise the house is haunted?”

“The ghosts are active only at night,” suggested lanky Rony, “It’s only 4.30.”

“I also think the same way,” Pintu sounded enthusiastic. He is burly and was happy to find a support.

“Leave aside ghosts, there can still be the snakes and scorpions.” Suman remained sceptical.

“I can handle them.” Pintu was not sure he could, but he couldn’t lose his face. He had always wanted to get in there as he was the more adventurous type. He won’t let the opportunity go.

The idea caught Rony’s imagination as well. Although he was a little uneasy with supernatural characters he didn’t mind adventures in company.

The two stepped into the compound with cautious steps. Not a single person was to be spotted nearby. Suman considered it better to accompany the duo rather than standing alone in front of the house. She had an eerie feeling while stepping into the bushes. There was a combination of wild plants and creepers. Some bore a few unknown flowers and fruits as well. Few insects crossed their path flying or crawling, of which they could identify only the ants, butterflies and a stray toad. Another common acquaintance was the mosquito that kept buzzing even at that hour. The compound looked darker than that outside. A bushy smell of mixed flavour kept emanating as they progressed more and more.

They had kept silent till they spotted a guava tree laden with ripe and semi-ripe fruits.

“Look, guavas!” shouted Pintu.

All the three ran towards the tree throwing caution in air. Even Suman forgot all about ghosts. Rony climbed up the tree while Pintu stood beneath to catch the guavas thrown by Rony.

Suman, however, got fascinated by a huge tree creating a large canopy of foliage nearby. She stepped slowly towards the tree. Underneath it was almost dark. It had large and thick green leaves with the tender ones having a brick-like hue. Some red and yellow small fruits were scattered on the ground. The fruits looked familiar. She had seen the tree somewhere, but couldn’t remember the name. Then she noticed the aerial roots hanging like tentacles from all over the branches.

It’s a banyan tree! Suman remembered. She had seen them in her picture book. The aerial roots invited her to have a swing on them. Without a second thought she clutched one and kept moving in a pendulum motion. After a while she left the root and was about to move back to the boys.

That’s when she heard it. It was a clear but rustling voice, as if coming from a distance. “Enjoyed the ride?” it said.

‘It’s a haunted place!’ she remembered all of a sudden. She felt her limbs getting limp. She slumped and sat on the ground.

“Are you some g—g—ghost or s—spirit?” she found herself stammering, and quite ashamed so.

“Don’t get afraid, girl. I’ll not harm you. I’m no ghost either. I’m very much alive.” The voice assured.

Suman looked around. None was seen save her companions. “Why can’t I see you then?” her voice was still shaky, but she was relived that she didn’t stammer.

“I’m very much in your front,” came the rustle, “I am Banyan Tree.”

Suman was stunned. “Can you speak, tree?” It was turning out to be fun. The tree stood still, but its leaves swayed softly.

“I do, dear, but only to those who can listen.”

“Indeed?” she was excited.

“Sumi, Sumi! Whom you’re taking to?” It was Rony who was standing close to Suman.

“Can’t you listen to the banyan tree talking, Bhaiya?” asked a surprised Suman.

“Don’t be silly. Are you making a fool of me?” Rony was acquainted with occasional stunts of his younger sister.

“She must’ve gone nuts,” chuckled Pintu standing a little away. “Must be the hunger. Have the guavas.” He handed over a couple of large guavas to Suman.

Suman smiled and left the place with Pintu and Rony. She understood that the boys were unable to decipher the tree’s voice. Didn’t the Banyan say, ‘—those who can listen’?

That night she kept thinking of the speaking tree. It would be fun to talk to it. She even dreamt of the tree as she slept.

The next day being a Sunday there was no school. Following breakfast and a quick go at her books to appease her mother, Suman left home with the plea of visiting a friend. She headed straight towards the haunted house.

Surprisingly, she didn’t feel the least of fear about the place. Instead, she felt she had a great friend in from of the banyan tree.

“Welcome, girl.” The tree said in its rustle. It seemed pleased.

So was Suman. “My name is Suman.”

“That’s what I could gather. But what will you call me?”

Suman remained pensive for a while. “I can’t call you by name. You look so large. How old are you?”

The tree emitted a sound that bordered on laugh. “In human calculation I’m 70 years old. But in our clan I can be called a young tree.”

“S-e-v-e-n-t-y!” exclaimed Suman. “You’re as old as my grandpa. But are you a male or a female?”

Again that rustle of laughter. “In our case it doesn’t matter. You can call me a grandpa or a grandma, whatever you like.”

Suman thought over it. “I love both, but I’ll settle for grandma. She tells me stories.”

“I’m not bad at telling stories either. And all stories are real. It happened around me all these years.”

“Wonderful!” Suman clapped. “Tell me, do the ghosts and souls really reside on your branches?”

“Ghosts?” it sighed, “It’s the way you think. Some people can’t forget their demised close ones, and that linger in their mind. As far as ghosts are concerned, it’s a product of fear. I’ve never seen them in my kingdom.”

“Kingdom!”

“Not the way you think. I’m no king or queen. Only I matter to many.”

“For whom?”

“See my expansion, see my branches, leaves, fruits, flowers. Also I’ve got cavities in my body. These serve as residence to a host of living beings. Crows, cuckoos, parrots, maynas, herons and many other varieties of birds. Innumerable insects stay on and around me. Some feed on my fruits and leaves. Some wasps and birds spread my pollens for germination.”

“Germination?” It was a new word to her.

“That’s the way my likes are born. Although I call it my kingdom, it’s actually I symbiotic form of leaving.”

“You use tough words, Grandma. ‘Symbiotic’?”

“Symbiosis is a form of leaving that’s mutually dependent on each other. Harmony of nature is maintained that way.

“I am expanding all around every day. Only thing, it’s noticeable only after a gap. So my kingdom keeps increasing. Yesterday only I noticed a jackal couple making a burrow under my canopy. There are hares and snakes as well in my kingdom.”

“Snakes!” Suman shuddered, “Are you not scared of them?”

“You make me laugh, Suman. They all are my friends. Only thing I’m afraid of are the humans. They shear my branches off, hurt me. Even some people harm me by worshipping me.”

“That’s strange! How can one harm you if they worship you?” Suman looked up.

“They do so inadvertently. They paint me, they smear vermilion and oil mixture on my skin. Even they litter my surrounding with plastics. These don’t augur well for my health. Thanks to the abandonment of the place. These are things of past.”

“But I’m your friend, isn’t it?” she asked hopefully.

“Of course you are. And there are others. It’s people like you who can save us. Trees are must to preserve the nature, and subsequently the earth.

“Well, you’re too small to understand it now. But you’re sure to do so as you grow up.”

She remained thoughtful for moment. Then her enthusiasm was back. “Grandma, where are the birds? I can’t spot any.”

“Most of birds have gone out in search of food early in the morning. They’ll return by evening. You can see some owls and bats if you notice properly. They venture out at night only.”

She could spot a few bats hanging upside down from a couple of branches at the top. No owl was seen, however.

Suman kept visiting Banyan Grandma every Sunday, and got engaged in talking for hours together. Every time Grandma would come out with some or other intriguing story. It was squirrels teasing the rabbits, a bunch of wild boars exploring the roots of the tree, a snake invading the nest of a crow for eggs, or a hawk attacking a bunch of parrots- all featured in stories. Sometimes the tricks of a cunning jackal, at other times it was a vulture feeding on the corpse of a buffalo- Suman listened spellbound.

There was a visible improvement in Suman’s school grade as well. The girl who scraped through the school exams showed a visible improvement in her ranks. She never let anyone know of her Banyan Grandma. It remained a secret. Through her only she had come to know of how great the nature is, and how important it is to conserve the nature to save the earth. She has come to know that it’s only the humans that kill for greed, and disturb the balance of nature.

A long time has passed since then. Today Suman has grown up to be a woman of thirty five. She is the deputy conservator of forests in one of the district headquarters these days. She is also the wife of caring husband in the same profession, and the mother of a teen aged boy who loves the trees. She runs an organisation meant for conservation of nature.

She keeps her dates with her Banyan Grandma till this day. Her son and husband keep her company often. Karimganj, by now, has converted into a full fledged township. She has purchased the abandoned compound and let the banyan and other trees grow unabated. She imagines the compound to be a mini earth where they have a symbiotic existence where they kill only to survive, without hindrance from greedy humans.

Whenever she comes she caresses, embraces and talks to her Grandma, and she reciprocates, still. Grandma never fails like the politicians. She has kept her words. She has expanded manifold, and keeps accommodating a variegated lives.

Suman loves her. It’s a solace to be in touch with her. Grandma keeps her teaching the way life really is.

Suman has done another thing as well. In a corner of the compound she has built a shelter for children- for ‘those who can listen’.