A tree stands witness to the world like an old soul, full of wisdom and compassion. While cutting of trees for wood, fuel or land space is inescapable for the growth of human civilization, as the most intelligent living species on earth, can’t we human beings think of an alternative?
Recently, there was a protest in Shyambati, West Bengal, for the felling of a peepal tree for road construction. All news articles covering the incident read with bold captions about how the human voices were overruled. But was anybody probed to think of building the same road around the tree instead?
A silent observer, a keeper of secrets, the tree is an integral part of every person’s being. Don’t you remember that banyan tree whose hanging roots you marvelled at? Or that peepal under which you would spend a whole winter day, reading your favourite book? Or your neighbours’ mango trees from which you would pluck the ripe juicy fruits as a child despite all admonitions? Or that krishnachura whose blazing red blossoms yet brighten your day? Or that tree by the roadside under which the panwala still makes you flavourful pans?
What if, those trees could speak? Then they would tell you of their encounters—with romantic carvings of lovers on their bark, with hatchlings in warm nests on their branches, or with a passer-by seeking a few moments’ rest in their shade.
In The Trees Told Me So, we find the author, Purva Grover, to have woven together with the trees, 11 short stories of—dreams, sins, secrets, confessions, relationships, life and living. She draws a beautiful picture of various interesting life experiences with an honest voice. The book invokes you to read each and every one of these tales while basking in the shade of your favourite tree.
To buy: https://amzn.to/2JZkXqm