The delicate light green leaves tremble in the heat, providing much-needed respite from the sun. I stand with my family on the side of the road at the start of our village, looking up at the grandeur of this gnarled old tree. We’re waiting for the bus to go back home to Dehradun after our summer vacation in the village. I ask my dad what this tree is called. He has a rare pride in his voice as he says SHEESHAM (Dalbergia sissoo). I’m too young to understand, but I touch the uneven, rough bark with my small hands. My father chuckles and lifts me up over his head, and asks me to pluck a few leaves. He folds the small leaf into a tube, pinches the end off, puts the end in his mouth and whistles. I’m jumping up and down with delight, as is my younger sister, and other travellers smiling at the scene.
A Sheesham tree
But this is not my first memory of a grand tree. That place is always for the NEEM, my most favourite tree, which was there at both my grandparents’ homes, and we would put swings in them for Teej. Rock doves would make nests in them, cooing in a peculiar village way, never heard in the cities.
A Neem tree
There’s another childhood memory, a smell that I carried with me forever, a strange fragrance full of sweetness, and I never found the source. Then, in 2004, at the age of 38, my husband and I went to Khajuraho. While driving, my husband asked if I had seen a Mahua tree. I hadn’t. Both of us have always loved trees, so he stopped under a handsome tall tree and picked a few fallen fruits and flowers, handing me some while putting a few in his mouth, eyes closed and moaning in delight. I brought my hand close to my nose and was overwhelmed by that sweet fragrance I remembered but never identified. Now I knew the Mahua (Madhuca longifolia)
The round canopy of the gorgeous Mango (Mangifera indica) tree, the thorny bark of the Semal (Bombax ceiba) tree, the lacy leaves of the Neem (Azadirachta indica) tree, the fragrant night-blooming flowers of the Harsingar (Nyctanthes arbor-tristis), the rattling pods of the Siris (Albizia lebbek), the heart-shaped, shiny pendulant leaves of the Peepal (Ficus religiosa) and the eternal long hanging beard like roots of the Dadaji of all trees, the Bargad (Ficus benghalensis) are some of my favorite things. When we came to live in the village, we made just one list: which trees to plant.
A Mango tree
All photos by Purnima Anup Singh.
About the author: Purnima Anup Singh has a Master’s in Botany and loves trees. She and her husband have made a home in their village and are pursuing natural farming after retirement. They’ve planted 2000 trees on their farm.
