The Old Lady Is About To Perish

 “The Old Lady is about to Perish” read the email header. Ramya was intrigued, she had subscribed to this news website after she heard her grandfather's stories about this sleepy little town. Nothing of interest ever happened there, she only glanced through it sometimes to get some small-talk material with her grandfather, who was rapidly losing his memory and only remembered his youth and the lazy days in Mahanagar. Named so, as it was designed to become the epicenter of economic growth in the area but became a town nobody knew about. She clicked on it hoping to find an emotional story about some old lady but was surprised with what she read.

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The computer on his desk pinged, 11 views. 

It had been over a day since he published his article. On print, it appeared on page ten, a place nobody reached in a newspaper. Robin had been urging his editor to give the story more prominence, but local elections and the latest movie gossip were the most popular segments and brought in the most revenue. Unlike the Old Lady, who had no economic value to anyone. She was one of the oldest trees in Mahanagar, at the edge of the town, far enough away from civilization to warrant some solitude. Standing alone amid wild bushes, people suspected she was planted by someone, as it was not a variety found in the area. She had been there long enough that she was a part of the town, the part that no one would miss when it disappeared.

Except me, Robin thought. 

He had always been one for solitude, and the tree offered plenty, so he went there often. He was in high school, with no idea what he wanted to do with his life. And so, he went to the “Old Lady” as he called her, who listened to all his worries. Under her shadow, he slept peacefully, not a care in the world. He often cleared the thicket around her to make sure she had space to grow and did not have to compete for nourishment from the soil. He had no idea if that helped her, but it helped him. One such day, he found a folded piece of paper as he was uprooting some dead bushes. It was old and falling apart at the edges but the writing on it was still legible.

“My dearest son Prabhakar” it said.

“We received your letter and are very happy to hear about your new job. Your mother and I are very proud of you. We saw the pictures you sent. We are very happy that you found a life partner as well. But you know how the town folk are, they may not let you stay in peace if they find out. Not everybody in India is beyond race and religion yet. For this I suggest you stay in the city. Your mother and I will move there with you once you are settled. Let us keep this a secret for now”.

“Love and Blessings,

Gopinath”

Robin was amazed reading this, looking at the old-style local dialect it was written in, he estimated it to be at least a couple decades old. He was confused to find the letter under the tree, wondering if Prabhakar ever got it. He decided to find out. He spoke to his grandmother, and asked other elders of the town, everybody expressed that they had no knowledge of Prabhakar or Gopinath. But he kept at it, trying to find old census reports, asking around abandoned properties, whatever his brain suggested could give him clues.

One day, a few months after he found the letter, he was called to the house of the most powerful man in town. He was surprised as he had no associations with them but went as he was told it was an old woman’s dying wish to see him.

After reaching their house, he was ushered into the lady’s room. She was the matriarch of this powerful family, when she was younger, her influence was such that her word was considered the law. Now there she was, lying on her deathbed, withered with age.

Coming straight to the point, without waiting for any ceremonies and courtesies, she asked, “Are you the one asking around about Gopinath?”

Robin nodded. So, she went on.

“Did anyone tell you anything about him?” Now Robin shook his head, curious to see where this was going.

“Let me tell you. It was extremely wrong”, she paused for breath.

“Gopinath was my husband’s accountant. He had a son for whom he had big dreams, Prabhakar.” She shook her head again.

“My husband, he almost owned the village, back then Mahanagar was nothing more than a village. Great man, did great things to make this a town, started businesses, employed people” she paused again coughing a little.

“May he (cough), may he rest in peace” now she started coughing badly. It was several minutes before she could speak again.

“Such a great man… one horrible deed. I never looked at him the same after that”

“What did he do aunty?” asked Robin unable to contain himself.

She put up a hand, asking him to wait and looked at everyone in the room, as if daring them to stop her. No one moved. It was then that Robin noticed how tense the entire room was. It dawned on him then, it was not that nobody in town knew about Gopinath, it was that everybody did. He sat up straight, both excited and scared, ready to run at a moment’s notice.

The lady continued.

“Gopinath knew what the townfolk would do to his son, for marrying outside his religion…. but his wife, naïve little Radha…. such a perilous mistake” her voice was shaking now, tears flowing from her eyes.

“When my husband came to know, he questioned Gopinath. Who boldly supported his son, refusing to share his whereabouts so that my husband couldn’t harm him. Little did he understand the devil in my husband”. she paused to sip some water, every gulp an agony.

“Gopi and Radha’s bodies were found below the tree at the edge of the village. Maybe your letter fell from his pocket there” she was now crying in earnest.

Robin was shocked, beyond belief. He couldn’t imagine such a situation happening, honor killings were only tales of old times to his innocent mind.

Everyone was silent, nobody moving. After a few minutes, Robin, guessing this to be the end of conversation, decided to ask permission to leave.

The lady continued just as he was about to open his mouth.

“Then Prabhakar came… looking for his father. He was told his father killed his mother and committed suicide because of the sin that Prabhakar had committed…...

Prabhakar barely escaped the town alive. We don’t know where he is”.

The silence was deafening, Robin sat there till life left her body. Both stunned and afraid. After an unknown amount of time, a young man in his twenties, gently touched his shoulder, motioning Robin to follow him outside. He told Robin that he was asked by his grandmother to protect him and his family. That is when the grievousness of the situation started sinking in for Robin. This was religious politics at it’s worst, innocent lives were lost because someone’s belief system was different than another’s.

This incident changed Robin, and he became determined to get the truth out. To let Prabhakar to know that his father stood by him till the end, he felt Prabhakar was owed at least this much by this town. So Robin started writing, determined to get this story out. His quest to give the truth a platform led him into the world of journalism. Soon after he published the story, the lady’s family left the town in shame, but still nobody heard from Prabhakar. Robin knew that he wanted to give many such truths a voice, maybe he could find closure for some other such Prabhakar.

Today, Robin could not help but think had it not been for this tree, his life could be so different. And he wasn’t even able to save the tree, his Old Lady.

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“…Mehra Construction Company is planning to build a factory on the land, and according to the crazy writer, “killing” his tree. A tree because of which the whole land is barren, nothing but wild bushes can grow as it takes all the nutrients from the land. A tree which will slowly kill the rest of the vegetation, including crops, in that area if it were to grow any bigger.” Pakhi finished reading the article from the regional newspaper. Unbeknownst to Robin, his story was gaining some audience, although not in the way he expected.

“Hey Dad! Didn’t you say you used to live in Mahanagar?” Pakhi asked Prabhakar.

Feroza, her mom, gave her a look, and Pakhi stopped herself from asking the next question on her mind, what he thought about the story of the Old Lady.

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Ramya was running around the house trying to get everything ready for the trip, at the same time trying to calm her extremely excited grandfather. He couldn’t stop talking about his tree and the friends he met there, excited to meet them again, not realizing that most of them would not be alive anymore. In his heart, he was fifteen again. Living with his grandparents, learning about the simple life away from the bustle and speed of the city. Something he had fallen in love with and always dreamed of getting back to.

“Let’s go Daadu! Everything is ready” Ramya called out to her Grandfather, and his trusty attendant pushed his wheelchair to the car, and helped him in. Ramya climbed into the seat next to him and started the long drive to Mahanagar.

On the way, Ramya’s assistant texted her the contact number for Mahanagar Daily, the news website she had been following. She decided to stop and call them up.

“Hello, is this Mahanagar Daily?”

“Yes, how can I help you?”

“I am calling about an article written by Robin Singh. Can I speak to them please?”

“yes, let me check if he is available”

After some time, she heard a surprised voice, “Hello, this is Robin, how can I help you?”

“Mr. Singh, My name is Ramya, I am calling about your article on the old tree in your city. Is it true that it is being cut down by Mehra Constructions? Do you have any more details about the situation?”

“Hello Ma’am, yes that is correct. Mehra constructions is planning to start building there in a month, there is only wild bushes on the land other than that tree. No crops grow there hence there was no opposition from the townsfolk on construction there. But the tree is an important part of history of the town and should be a heritage spot.”

“I want to hear more about the history that you are talking about. But before that, have you read what Bharat Times is writing about you? They are calling you crazy, saying that the tree is no good for the land around it and is slowly killing everything around it. What do you think about it?”

“Ma’am I might be crazy, but the tree is in no way harming anything around it, that area has never been used for anything, how do we know if it is barren or not? Birds, squirrels, and insects all live there, so do wild bushes. If it were no good, wouldn’t it harm all these other beings as well?”

“Hmm, that’s a good point. Here is an idea, would you be willing to meet me today? There might be something we can do to save the tree.”

“What? I am sorry, I don’t understand?”

“I am coming to Mahanagar in a couple of hours. Can we sit down and try to figure out if there is something we can do?”

Robin was excited, “YES! That would be wonderful!! When will you get here? Where are you staying, I can come meet you there.”

“I haven’t figured that out yet, why don’t we meet you at your office?”

Ramya’s car stopped in front of Mahanagar Daily’s office. It had been two hours since she spoke to Robin. Even as she was getting out of the car, she saw a young man sprinting down the stairs, very visibly excited.

She introduced herself and her grandfather to Robin and after the initial introduction, they sat and spoke for a long time. Later they visited the tree. Ramya’s grandfather lit up when he saw the tree, remembering his childhood days.

He was smiling, marveling at how big the tree had gotten. He remembered his mother’s stories about how his grandfather had planted this tree. It was supposed to bring prosperity to their family. And how it had! Ever since he found his family’s connection to this tree, he had a special attachment to it. He had recognized the area and this tree even in the pictures Ramya had shown him. He had asked her to take him there, his town. His father had moved to the big city to expand their business when he was very young, but he kept coming back every chance he got. And then after he took over the business, he visits became scarce, practicality taking precedence over emotions.

“Take a good look at this place Daadu, because it is going to change”

---

“Arun Mehra, you dug yourself out of a bad place, truly you have talent” Ramya said, looking up from the newspaper.

“Not without my wife’s help” he responded smiling at her. “The one time you meddled in my business and made it better”.

“I think I should meddle more often, you know, make your business as good as mine”, she said cheekily. And they both laughed.

Robin’s latest article on his Old Lady had gathered the attention of a national newspaper, this time on page two. Sitting on the Mehra’s coffee table, the title jumped out.

“Saved by a Letter”

A tree in Mahanagar, considered a local heritage was on the brink of being lost when Mehra contructions proposed a factory be built on the land. By the efforts of a local journalist Robin Singh, the issue reached Arun Mehra of Mehra Constructions and in an unprecedented move for the company, the idea for a factory was replaced by that of making a children’s park on the land.

“Mahanagar and that land holds importance for my wife and her family, making me realize the importance of giving back to the community where we live in. With the opening of Prabhakar Mishra Heritage Conservation Park, I am hoping to take my company in a new direction where we can work in harmony with people and nature.” Said Arun Mehra at the inauguration of the park in Mahanagar. The inauguration was done by Mr. Ravindra Sharma, who is Arun Mehra’s grandfather-in-law and a native of Mahanagar, and ex-CEO of Sharma Industries which is currently managed by Ramya Sharma.

The article went on to retell the Story of Prabhakar and his father and how it inspired the chain of events for Robin and Ramya. It ended with a personal note from Robin.

“I wanted to re-tell Mr Prabhakar’s story as it is something which made me who I am today, and I believe he deserves to know the truth about his father, and the last ever letter he wrote him.”

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As Prabhakar finished reading the article, he couldn’t stop his tears. He had misunderstood his father all this time. Never questioning what he heard, despite knowing that what he was told was very uncharacteristic for his father. He got up from his chair, looking for Feroza. As he entered the kitchen, he saw in their mini temple, an old picture of his father and mother kept alongside the Krishna idol. That is when he knew, he had his parent’s blessings all along.