A missed farewell and death of a tree
A missed farewell and death of a tree
by
Anuradha Chakraborty
Well ask yourself, if you had something that you didn't
need, would you regularly check it or take care of it? Imagine you plant a rose
tree, but for what? Are you planting it for nothing, or would you hope that one
day you would get roses from that plant? Every tree we plant, we expect to get
something out of it. But if you say you actually expect nothing from it, you
are either lying or you are an exceptional person. We have been seeing that
parents love us selflessly since childhood, they fulfil all our expectations,
pay for everything that we needmake us study. But do they really do it
selflessly? Don’t they expect anything in return? Well anthropological study of
The Gift by Marcell Mauss doesn’t say so. Mauss in his book The Gift shows that
gifts are not selfless at all, they include a triple underlying obligations, to give, to
receive, to return, often with increment. Coming back to the idea when our age
is around 24-25, can we really continue to depend on them? Will they accept it?
Rather, we will have our responsibilities of giving back to them, perhaps more
than what we got from them. We develop responsibilities towards our family,
society and towards ourselves. If we fail to fulfil it, we become a burden on
them and become unnecessary to the society. Today I will share one such
incident which I have experienced on human-plant relationship.
The Story:
At the centre of this story is a Fresh Pomelo (Batabi Lebu) tree. This is the tree that I have been seeing in front of my house since my childhood. The tree is located right next to our tubewell from where we fetch water. The tree is quite old, almost about 20 years. Yet as I have been told and I have seen, this tree has never given a single piece of fruit ever. The tree was alive. Yearly the tree also got new leaves, shredded the old ones. As my mother is very fond of plants, she took good care of it for the first few years. But she also gave up after seeing that the tree is not yielding any fruit for years. The tree gradually became unnecessary to us. But we never chopped down the tree, we never wanted to destroy its existence.
The time passed by, we kept using our tubewell regularly but
didn't pay any extra attention to the tree. All of us are more or less
fascinated by the beauty of the sky.
Sometimes the sky looks so beautiful that I wanted to
capture the moment on camera. It is worth mentioning that there is a huge time
gap between the first and second photo in the photo. The first one I took in a
cloudy afternoon and the second one is taken on a sunny morning. Somewhat
strangely, the tree is present in both the frames, though I concentrated on the
sky and missed its omnipresence. Especially after taking the second picture
recently, I was surprised. Looking at the picture, I saw that the tree is no
longer alive. I felt sad that I couldn’t really bid it a farewell and it just
left. Suddenly, the question arose in my mind that was the tree really so
unnecessary that we did not notice its disappearance or it is better to say
that no attempt was ever made to take care of it, just because it never yielded
anything. Even though it was in front of us, and we planted it, and yet never
looked after it. Finally found out through a picture that it is no more with
us? Isn't that really weird? Or perhaps not! Does it really prove Marcell Mauss
was right when he said that our relationships are exchange relationships!
Now that the tree is replaced by a guava tree, the guava
tree has started bearing fruit within a year of planting. Everyone loves the tree in our house.
Everyone is waiting for guava flowers to come on the tree. They try to count
from the gap of leaves, how many guavas are visible and much more going on
about that tree. We always eliminate things that are invisible for us in so far
as they do not yield anyting. If something not serving us our needs, we start
ignoring or eliminating that thing unconsciously.
Reference:
Mauss, Marcel (2016). The Gift. Jane I. Guyer (Expanded
ed.). Chicago. (https://www.worldcat.org/title/951155743)
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