It was one of those heavy monsoon nights. Suddenly, a loud thud echoed across our colony. At first, I thought it must be a flowerpot that had toppled from a rooftop. Half an hour later, when I checked the society WhatsApp group, the truth unfolded -- the grand old peepal tree in the adjacent park had been uprooted.

Standing tall in the centre of the park, it had a wide canopy that had been a green shelter for all -- a place where children played under its shade, elders rested on benches, and many offered their prayers. Its branches were an abode to birds. Its fall left a void, as though a guardian of our community had collapsed.

While many in the society casually suggested clearing the logs and "making way for a playground", my wife felt otherwise. To her, the tree was not debris but a living being that deserved a chance. She reached out to NGOs and eventually approached the Mayor's office. Her persistence brought results -- calls began to come in from the Municipal Corporation's horticulture team.

The first visit was discouraging. The experts denied that the tree could be straightened. But after a few days and multiple visits, their resolve softened. With compassion and technical expertise, they brought in heavy machinery and attempted the seemingly impossible task of straightening the mighty peepal. Our neighbours, however, were not convinced.But the horticulture team countered with a poignant reminder: "During COVID, people were buying oxygen. These trees give it free, every single day."

The operation took time, patience, and sheer willpower. Our children stood patiently seeing the procedure while ensuring the supply of drinking water with their tiny hands to the workforce. And finally, the peepal stood upright once again, its roots embraced by the earth. Weeks later, as the rains eased and the sun returned, small green shoots began to appear on its branches. What once seemed like a lifeless trunk now breathed with fresh life. We did not forget to profusely thank the horticulture team for the task.

varunjoshi55@gmail.com

The day the peepal fell