Down Memory Lane
The Trees that Shaped My Life
For our member Ms A. Mukhopadhyay, spring has always meant a return to nature, to trees and flowers in particular. In this evocative account she recalls her deep relationship with them.As a child, I was sent to a missionary school. At the far end of our playground stood two krishnachura trees whose flaming red blossoms we called April flowers. On 1 April, we would prepare little chits in which we drew an ape, followed by the syllable “ril,” and a sketch of the krishnachura blossoms to stand in for “phool,” meaning flowers in Bengali. It was a puzzle in which words are represented by a combination of images and letters. Ours spelt out “April Fool,” and we would give these notes to the victims of our innocent pranks as a message that they had been tricked.
Trees have been my constant companions throughout my life. When I finally retired from Bardhaman University, I missed two things. One was teaching; there was no greater pleasure than being in the company of my students. The other was the natural beauty of the university grounds. In spring, as you walked in through the large gates, a row of ashok trees would greet you with the intense fragrance of their flowers. Tall cedars lined the banks of a water canal which girded the property. Beyond the university walls was Tarabagh, where we quartered, where I remember being astonished by the brilliance of rudrapalash trees in bloom. Outside my window, at handshaking distance, grew the nagkeshar flower. Every day we would walk along a road shaded by mahogany trees and cross a small bridge over the canal. Once, my mother, who was visiting me, grew concerned and asked, “Are you sure a tiger is not going to jump out from behind one of these trees?”
I consider it my misfortune to have had to witness the deforestation of the land towards the end of my tenure there, when they chopped down and cleared the mahogany forest. In a life often punctuated by challenges and deep suffering, the trees played a large part in bringing serenity and calm.
(as narrated to Support Elders by our member)