Is the mango tree still there?

My childhood was full of trees. All kinds. I often think of a mango tree that stood tall in my mother’s house. I remember catching a glimpse of it through the kitchen door and longing to be by its side. Even though the tree was only a few steps away, just looking at it gave me joy with an emotion that felt like love. Like longing.

The walk to the tree felt poetic. The very act of finding my way to the tree was filled with joy. From the kitchen of that old house, I would step down onto the small veranda that lined the house. From there out into the pebbled courtyard where, looking up, yellow trumpet flowers in full bloom would offer such a feast to my eyes and heart. Next to the yellow flowers were jasmine bushes – I can’t remember a time when they weren’t in bloom.

After admiring the beauty of the flowers, I climbed a stone ladder, the kind that connects one terrace to another, popular in the hilly areas of Kerala. The stones would become so moss-covered during the monsoon that I would get lost in their intricate universe. It was so easy to get lost. To forget everything else. During the rains, this path took on a new appearance and a new meaning that my words cannot describe the effect it had on my heart.

After climbing two terraces, I would be under the big mango tree. Under the tree there would be layers and layers of yellow and brown leaves with grass heads growing through them. I don’t know if my grandfather had thoughtfully placed some stones around the tree, or if the stones were already there. The placement of the rocks seemed very thoughtful – after picking a few mangoes it was very conveniant to hop on them and enjoy the fruit.

Under the beautiful blue sky, birds occasionally flew over my head from one tree to another. Then there were squirrels and chipmunks. On the trees, under the trees and everywhere in between. It was almost always quiet, except for the singing of the birds. My memory of the mango tree is intertwined with the memory of the time I spent in its neighbourhood. Looking back, I marvel at the interconnectedness of everything in nature. Just being there was enough to experience the heights of joy.

But what I wonder the most today is – is the mango tree still there?

(Image courtesty: flickr_marshneil)