The Peepul Tree

The Peepul Tree

Today again, I saw the old man sitting on the bench under my peepul tree. It was the third day since my return from my Kolkata PG, and every morning I had been coming down to the condominium park for my morning jog and yoga. And on each of these mornings, I had seen the old man sitting under this tree; he was always alone and in a pensive mood, and though I often thought that I’d sit beside him and talk to him, I could not muster enough courage. Why, I thought, should I intrude upon his thoughts? But today I suddenly found myself turning towards, and greeting him.

I call this peepul tree 'my' tree because twenty years ago I had planted the tender sapling. I was then eight years old, and my family, that is myself, my brother and my parents had just moved to this condominium. Soon after we had moved there was a tree plantation drive in the city, and our condominium also encouraged the kids to plant saplings. Encouraged by our parents, my brother and I had planted this sapling, but though my brother soon left interest in it I had continued to watch its growth. I developed a strange affinity to it as my mother often used to remark that it was growing fast like I was growing. The passage of time, however, brought many changes; my mother passed away after a brief illness a few years after we had shifted, and my brother went to Australia for his Master’s in Business Finance, leaving me and Papa to comfort each other. After my graduation, I got admission to this prestigious institute in Kolkata. I was reluctant to join it for I did not wish to leave Papa alone. I knew that he missed my mother, and he also knew that my brother was not likely to come back to India after his studies, but Papa was adamant that I should join the Kolkata institute as that would bring me one step closer to my cherished ambition of becoming a scientist. In the meantime, the tiny sapling which we had planted had grown into a mighty tree and was home to numerous birds who used to welcome the morning walkers with their sweet chirping.

“Good morning, uncle. May I sit with you for a while?”

He was startled; obviously, he did not expect anyone to greet him, but all the same, he replied pleasantly,

“Oh, by all means. Do sit down.” And he moved aside a little making room for me.

“Uncle, I have been coming here every morning for the last three days, and I always find you sitting here alone. Have you no friends? Or family? But do forgive me if I am being too inquisitive.”

A gentle smile spread on his face, making him look years younger and a lot happier. It appeared that he was happy to find someone who had noticed him and cared enough to sit by his side and to talk with him.

“Oh, no. That is all right. I sit alone here because in the long run, and basically, everyone has to live alone, at some stage of life. But though I am alone, I am not unhappy.”

Having said this, he again lapsed into silence. I thought it was time for me to take leave.

“OK, uncle, it has been nice to talk to you. I am here for a few more days, and I do hope to see you in the mornings.”

“A few days only? Where are you going after those few days?”

“Uncle, I have got admission for a Doctorate in Science in the UK and will be shortly joining there. I had come here to spend a few days with my father here."

“Oh, good luck to you. It will be a pleasure to talk to you whenever you choose. I am always here in the morning.”

Over breakfast, I told Papa about my conversation with the old man. My father knew him.

"Oh, you met Mr Seth, did you? Yes, he is generally sitting under your peepul tree.”

“Yes, but he seems to be a lonely man, very melancholy.”

“It is perhaps it is because he is missing his children. He has one daughter who is married to an investment banker in New York, and his two sons are in the UK. One is a doctor and the other is running a successful travel agency. His wife spends most of her time in the UK, alternating between the two sons. So the old Mr Seth is virtually alone here."

After breakfast, I got busy with my shopping and packing, for only about ten days were left before my scheduled departure for the UK. But all the time the picture and the words of Mr Seth kept haunting me. Mr Seth had three children, but he still felt so lonely. How will Papa feel when I have gone to the UK? After all, we know that once my course starts it will not be possible for me to visit India often. And certainly, my brother is not coming back from Australia. He had gone there while still very young and has got used to the disciplined and well-organized life there. Will my father feel as lonely as Mr Seth is feeling? Will He also be sitting alone under the peepul tree? The picture of Papa sitting, lonely and pensive, under the tree kept troubling me. And then, I don’t know how, my thoughts took another turn. Why I am going to the UK? I have already a Master’s in Science, with distinction. Will a doctorate make me a better scientist? And once I have spent a couple of years abroad will I not have second thoughts about coming back to India? But on the other hand, completing my Doctorate will round off my education. I found myself being tossed around with these conflicting feelings.

Papa went to bed soon after dinner while I sat with my laptop to scan my mail and Facebook pages until I felt sleepy. I closed the laptop but before I hit the bed I thought I'd just have a look at Papa to see that he was asleep. I tiptoed to his room and found that he was in deep sleep. But I also noticed that on his side table there was a new frame with a collage of my photographs from my childhood days to my Graduation. And suddenly it helped me take the final decision; I opened my laptop and typed a message to the institute in the UK, intimating that due to personal reasons, I was unable to join them; I hit the ‘send’ button, and went to bed, realizing that I had never been so happy in recent years.