Mango Tree

There is a mango tree in my house. I can see it across the glass partition ten feet from my desk in the first floor. All its branches and leaves are spread out all across the glass partition. Isn’t it cool ?

I planted it as a sapling. The mangoes that come out of it in summer are unbelievably tasty. I don’t know exactly what variety it belongs to. But it gives the best mangoes. It must have taken approximately ten years for it to get to this size. I see birds, sparrow, crow pheasant, parrots and many more coming and sitting on the tree and at times they poke the glass with their beaks probably looking at their image on the glass.

Right across the road where I live, hundred meters away, there was a mango grove on six acres. All of the trees have been cut and five tall residential apartments are coming up in their place. Hundreds of birds should have got displaced. Anyways I heard its going to house five hundred families.

Trees do not move anywhere. They probably cannot imagine like us sitting in one place. I can type away on the keyboard and look at a mango tree or a sparrow on my desktop. I can fill my head with images and float in my own make-believe world about anything.

Trees are simple and just stay there where they are. I can never be a tree. I can never sit in one place. Even if I sit I can never be without imagery filling my head like a tree. We are two different kinds. If I could be like a tree, unfilled, may be I would have understood it better. I only see the mangoes coming out of it. Today for a change I saw the tree, its branches, leaves and felt how I missed seeing it all along.