Medium Is The Message

The green-uniformed demolition squad arrived early one morning. The dogs that hang around the clinic suddenly barked and howled in protest. Ignoring them, the squad set about its task of taking down a huge gulmohar facing the road. One turbaned worker scaled its slippery trunk and reached a high branch. Then, like a man possessed, began hacking. The rest of the gang puffed away on bidis, and made jokes.In a while, the men tugged at a rope tied to the trembling, half-dismembered branch. The branch came down with a deafening crash. The simple people of the small village rushed out to watch. The spectacle of a giant falling always draws attention. Soon more branches came hurtling down with a roar, to bounce and rest on the ground. By mid-day the men had done a neat job and left only a stump behind to remind anyone that a 40-year-old tree had once stood there and given much joy and happiness to so many.
For not too long ago, the majestic tree was a delight to the eye. A rounded crown with a velvety spread of lime-green and deep green leaves, and in season, replete with red-yellow-orange flowers. In summer, children erected swings on branches and spent hours on end under the tree. On the spongy floor of fallen leaves and flowers, little girls in colourful dresses shrieked in delight and jumped up and down with a rope or played hopscotch. In the evenings toddlers found independence under a blue sky while their young mothers gleefully watched them. Under the shade of the tree, we held many free immunisation camps or gave health talks to the community. At the treetop, the place was always a menagerie with scores of birds mynahs, parakeets, crows and exotically feathered birds. The sound and movement and happy chatter made for a welcome diversion from the continuous rumble and thunder of the heavy vehicular traffic on the highway. Now all this has changed. The tree's place is taken over by a huge hoarding. For sure, it's not quite as lovely as the tree. And unless there's a major storm, it's unlikely to fall. Recently, a new message came up on the old giant billboard. It is unlikely to amuse Ogden Nash or Confucius or any of the grown-up children in the rural setting. It reads: "No shade tree? Blame not the sun, but yourself. Go plant a tree!"