Twenty two years ago I discovered two tiny entwined Neem seedlings in a flower pot on my terrace garden. They had sprouted from seeds embedded in organic manure. I didn’t have the heart to weed them out even though they would have surely destroyed the marigolds that had started to flower. There they were, clinging to each other like abandoned children in a new and baffling world. I contemplated their removal for a couple of days.
During that time I remembered the beautiful shady Neem trees of my childhood… the luxuriant green friend we had in our courtyard in Mathura and the numerous others who stood like milestones across my early years. They were my comforting relatives who had been sent to keep me company.
One morning I tenderly transplanted them into a separate pot and in the years that followed, watched them grow until they became sturdy saplings, ready to be rooted in our housing society's garden. Today, they grow, entwined, two forever-lovers - energising each other. Two beloved companions leaning towards my studio on the third floor of our block. Their presence is a constant reminder that we should not disturb the peace of lovers.
A year or two after I had first discovered the entwined neem seedlings I came across entwined Ramphal seedlings sprouting in another pot beside a pomegranate shrub loaded with fruit. Once again I contemplated their removal but a deep childhood memory of Bull’s Hearts (what we called Ramphal when we were children) growing in a neighbour’s garden stopped me. I fondly remembered them swelling on the branches, fragrant with life. In fact, I even dreamed that a magic bull had spoken to me and told me that it had gifted its heart to the tree. The fruit could grant all wishes. The next day I went to the neighbour’s garden fence to wish upon the fruit. But someone had stolen it the night before.
And so I transplanted the entwined seedlings into a pot and later when they were big enough, into the garden. Over the last many years, my beauties have gifted me numerous kilos of magic fruit.
I revere trees, not just Neem and Ramphal trees but all trees – the stately Pine, sprawling Banyan, lofty Tree of Heaven with their branches turned heaven wards in prayer, Indian Cork trees with their trail of white flowers, Golden Shower(or amaltas) with their gorgeous grapelike bunches of flowers, Supari palms that whisper sweet nothings at night, ghostly Mahua trees bereft of leaf and flower, wild Mango trees heavy with scented blossoms and all the other families of nature’s most elegant spirits.
If trees with leaves have been so inspirational for me… trees without leaves, bare to the bone, reveal physical and metaphoric beauty that is unparalleled. Trees in their most basic form are children of heaven. They remind us of the pure beauty and balance of the Great Mother. Consider the natural flow of their branches, the power of their trunks and sensuous energy of their twists and turns in the wind.
More recently, my pen and ink drawings have explored the physical and metaphysical forms of trees as they reveal themselves to me in the depth of my spirit… to delight me, calm me and inspire me… to remind me that the power of the universe is far more beautiful than anything I can ever imagine.
