Trees and Taxis

Just when my trees have grown back, they have dug open the roads. In this year, the trees in my lane were chopped off seven times. I mean the branches were brutally cut short. All the people with road facing houses on lower floors, want the trees to be cut away from the balconies. The people who park their cars in the bye lanes as Mumbai does not have enough of parking space , want the branches which grow towards the road, to be chopped off. The cars are more precious than the trees. The Municipal corporation has reasons to cut the trees for road widening projects and the fear that the branches may fall on pedestrians. Mumbai rarely has the wind velocity to cause too much damage but  it hardly takes a phone call to the authorities, to have a tree massacred. Not to forget the Builder mafia, which kills old trees from the roads, if it is anywhere blocking the building facade. A new building called Vidhaata just did that in Khar. The builders also kill the trees in their compound to generate more parking space, a kid's play area, a watchman's cabin or a ramp for the cars. In our new building complex, the planted trees were chopped to reduce darkness in the play area, to allow devotees more space near the temple etc. Concrete is poured in the roots of trees to make a roadside temple. The tree is cut at the trunk so that the flat surface is used to keep a Tulsi plant or a small flower stall. A marble platform is created around the tree for the barber to sit and operate an open air hair cutting salon. I am not talking about a village in India but this happens in the heart of Mumbai.

The chirping birds are back in my area. The leaves are green. The Decemberness is enveloping Mumbai at dawn. The nature fights back and bounces back. I wish we all understand this and stop destroying trees in the name of providing affordable housing and good infrastructure to people. We even manage to give a charitable thought to our man made destruction.

The cab driver is seventy two years old. He greets all taxis as he drives. He is joking with pedestrians and cabbies alike. The children are giggling seeing this young old man with a white stubble and black square frames and a cheerful demeanour. He said he has been driving cabs for last 42 years when the minimum fare , in Bambaiyya language we call it 'Meter,' was a few paise. He sheds a few tears when he is alone because his son Imran does not work. His wife , sisters and daughters all have tried to tell Imran to get his life on track. Imran has a wife and two children who are supported by the cab driver. Imran does not pay heed to any one's advice. Imran does not have any bad habits. He just does not want to stand on his own feet. It means he does not want to earn and make a living. The driver lives with this sadness as he picks up and drops people to their destinations. He helps passengers in their journey but feels stuck in his own journey in life. All because his son Imran is not working to support his own wife and children. Cabbie does not want money from Imran. He worries about Imran's future.   The ten minute cab ride comes to an end. I try to mutter some encouraging words to him. He smiles back and says "Aur koi gham nahin".  (I don't have any other sadness)