Autobiography
of a Tree
I am
an old Banyan tree. I was born long ago. I have a faint recollection of my
infancy. I am not be sure of anything about my birth. It is said that a certain
bird while eating a bunch of banyan cones, dropped some seeds on the ground
where I stand now. I was born of one of those seeds. I remained cold and low
throughout winter and one fine morning, in spring, I opened my eyes and smiled
upon the sun. Gradually, I grew into a plant, a young plant to sustain life
upon earth in a fully fledged manner and contributing whatever I can for the
society and the environment.
I have gathered varied
experience in my long life. On a fine summer day, I felt a little puzzled when
I saw myself being worshiped by some village women; but I do not know what
holiness they found in me. I am now a stout and strong Banyan tree deeply
rooted to the ground. I have also seen many happy sights like wedding
processions, pilgrims going to distant places, processions of young people
celebrating their victory in tournaments etc. On the last day of Bengali year,
a village fair is held in the place around me and the people of the
neighborhood come to join it.
Several generations of men of
this place and its adjoining areas have come in direct contact with me. I have
seen them come and go, but I am still living. Generations of monkeys, countless
generations of birds have lived upon my branches. People, birds and other
animals are still with me, fairs and meals are still held around me. I may have
another hundred years’ life unless I am struck by a deadly thunder or uprooted
by the violent storms or cut by man. But in any case I wish to die with mental
satisfaction that during my long tenure of life .
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