The big banyan tree

Lit Up: Mad March Microfiction

I was vegetating at the edge of the window of the attic, looking down upon the bubbly squirrels hopping up and down the branches of the big banyan tree not too far from the front of my home.

I remember when I was 9, I fell down from the tree. I wanted to become goddamn Mowgli, and just like these squirrels I wanted to hop from one branch to another wearing only the brown swaddle. Somehow, I managed to climb onto the tree, on one of the lower branches, garbed in He-Man underoos, but not before getting a fair share of bruises. I was attempting to touch the closest branch, and I fell. I woke up the next day, badly hurt, in my bed under the miffed sight of my parents. I was relieved with the fact that I hung to the other branch for five seconds before I lost my shit and fell. That was funny.

Ohh!! There are so many memories. This place is never going to be the same since today. I just want to go out and give a big strong hug. Whenever I used to hold it tight around my arms, I used to feel that the tree was holding me back with the same intensity and was never to going to let me go. I would sit, then, with my back against the base, idly for some time.

I saw a truck approaching from the bend, loading happy men and a space big enough to hold the corpse of the big banyan tree. I could not bear the thought of staying until the end.

I put my headphones on, and stayed there at my spot until the night fell.