The Tree
"Do you want to stay there for the whole day? Come down soon!" Ramu
kaka was continuously calling me. Standing under the shed of Shambhu, he was
looking frustrated. Shambhu and I were childhood friends. We were grown
together. For saying, he was some years elder to me but this age difference was
never an issue between us.
Ten years back when we came in this colony as residents, nobody was here of my
age. Maximum kids were either studying in high schools or belonged to
high-class families for whom friendship with a medium class boy was a matter
sacrificing their prestige. Mostly, I used to keep standing in my Lawn,
watching passing traffic on the road. Initially I never noticed him but one day
when a goat entered in to our Lawn and tried to eat Shambhu, I saved his life
and from that day, He became my responsibility.
I was not alone anymore; I had found a close friend in the form of Shambhu.
Every day I used to sit with him for hours. Ramu Kaka and I build a stone
fencing around him to save him from the goats, now we were confident about the
security of my friend. When MasterJi had been taking class in the school, I was
always waiting for the bell to ring so I could get a leave from there to meet
Shambhu. How he was named Shambhu, is also an interesting story. I always used
to ask my mother, who named me Vinay and she always replied, the holy sage. At
that time, I was having a general perception that whoever wears a saffron
cloth, is a sage.
One day, a beggar cam to our door, He was wearing a saffron scarf circling his
neck. My eyes were full of hopes and When, I told him my wish, He agreed to
give a name to my friend in exchange of an old aluminum pot. However, I got a
good scolding from my father to give him that pot without permission but it was
a good deal because my friend had a name now, Shambhu.
Time kept on passing with its pace, Sometimes I used to pour my glass of milk
in to his roots. This solved two purposes for us, one - he was older to me and
he required more strength, second I too was saved from drinking milk and there
was no guilt feel for wasting it. Now he was much taller than I was. I used to
sit on his arms under his leaves and keep on telling my stories to him for
hours. Today MasterJi taught this, RamuKaka cooked this food, Babuji went very
late to office and blah blah. He used to hear all my talks with full endurance
and sometimes used to acknowledge me by waving his branches.
Ma, Babuji never stopped me from passing time with him and he lived up to our
friendship. He repaid, the milk shared in childhood, in the form of many
Mangoes. However finally the time came when we have to get parted .My father
was transferred in to a different city and we were suppose to leave that place,
I tried to resist and asked to leave me there but no body was interested in
demands of a twelve year old boy. That day it was drizzling in the morning, our
whole stuff was loaded in to a Truck and sitting at the rear seat of the Taxi,
I was continually watching him with my wet eyes.
Slowly-slowly, time wiped of my memories and I got busy in my life, Study, Marriage,
Kids all was passed like a gust of wind. I was doing very well with my real
Estate business. In addition, we started buying lands in many areas for our
massive constructions. Every one was willing to join us. Daily Many people use
to come to us with the maps of the land to sell. We were having a straight rule
that the seller has to clean the place before talking to us. We used to buy
clean lands only, so we could be saved from the headache of getting that plain
to construct our buildings. That day too someone came to meet me with a map; it
was a normal scene in our office.
My eyes were widened when he told me that he had come from my childhood city
that he told me about the plot. Its located just opposite to the old mosque and
there were only two things which he has already vacated, an old house and an
old mango tree.
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