Death of a Royal

Since we moved to this house in a fairly peaceful part of Mumbai, just short of three years ago, we've been graced by a lovely Gulmohar tree whose vibrant green canopy spread out wide beneath our seventh-storey apartment. Today, after a few days of incessant rain, the first of this monsoon, its roots, housed uncomfortably under the paved roads of reclaimed land and the foundations of the residential complexes around it, finally gave way and it fell onto that very road, damaging around twenty cars in those very residential complexes that it shaded through its life.

It is not usual for me to be waxing eloquent about a tree. I can only assume that it signifies the initial signs of old age, encouraging me to stop avoiding my very human fears and insecurities, and ease my way into acknowledging them by attributing them to natural phenomena. Rationalization aside, here I am, feeling inordinately distressed because a tree has fallen. 

In a city starved of privacy and space, this particular tree gave me a sense of being a little removed from the teeming city life around me, and a little closer to nature. It was home to many species of birds at different times - parakeets, egrets, pigeons, kites, mynas, bulbuls and the occasional kingfisher.When in full bloom, it was a magnificent reminder of how colourful nature can be. There are few things in Mumbai that will draw my attention to the sky - there isn't usually much of it to see, and so it's easy to forget that it's there. A flock of birds emerging from this tree's vivid cupola and taking flight into the blue is one of them. There were often moments of quiet contemplation when I was standing on my balcony, trying to gather my scattered thoughts, and it brought me back to the present with a jolt, commanding my attention. It forced me to take a step back from my mental exertions and become aware of its generous, verdant throw. In stark contrast to the grey buildings and the inexorably urban lives that it obscured, it helped me understand that it may be futile to spend my time searching for a more sublime world - whatever beauty there is left is precious, ephemeral. I must remember to derive joy and meaning from it, as often as I can.