A Pretty Neat Place

  A Painting and a Story # 20

With her silver anklet jingling, and her pigtails flying Meenu (short for Meenakshi) runs to the strong bark of the tall tree with red flowers. She does not know the name of these large red flowers but this tree is her friend. Hoo Ffoo kaka walks leisurely with her parents. 'Go to the tree and come back' they tell her. She loves doing that. These old people and their constant chatter. What do they have so much to talk about? Meenu makes four trips to the red-flower-tree by the time they catch up with her. There is a cluster of three benches here and they always sit and relax. Meenu sits too. 

Squirrels chase each other up the tree. Mommy birds and Daddy birds return to their nests and begin a heated evening discussion. A row of red ants climb and weave in and out of the roots, going somewhere with single minded attention. 'Meenu', her mother calls her, 'red ants bite. Don't go near them'. Meenu tries to balance herself on the root of the strong tree. 'Ouch'! Ants bite. She blinks a few times and holds back her tears. 'What happened Meenu. Come here' Meenu ignores her. She knows if she gets on her lap she will cry! 

Adult Meenu is back in Pune after a really long time. An office conference has brought her here. She is alone and the evening is a long one. She orders a cab from the hotel and hires it for the evening. The driver is a friendly young man. He is happy to drive her to her old school, to her house and is intrigued when she asks him to park the cab on a road side. 'You have a friend house here?' the driver asks her. Meenu shakes her head, not willing to answer. She walks up the roadside. She can feel in her mind the rough trunk of the tree with red flowers. She walks up and down the street. She is sure she is on the correct place. Where is the tree? She can see the cluster of benches, the road is wider and paved, the place is neater, but where is the tree? She sits on the bench and looks around puzzled. The squirrels, the birds, the ants, where are they? The tree, Oh! that ant bite. Meenu sits on the bench. Now she cries. 

The driver sees her red eyes. 'What happened didi. Why are you crying he asks gently'. What can she tell him. She cries for the lost red flower tree. Would he understand? How can you explain that you cry for a tree you had forgotten for 15 years? The grief is deep. But this she cannot explain. He would perhaps shrug his shoulders and laugh and say, "for this you are crying!!!" 

My painting for this week is an acrylic - The Pink Tree - 

The one that got away!