THE Autobiography of a Tree
Story time
It may be hard to believe, but once upon a time I was just a mere result of a science project. The children planted me in a plastic cup full of damp cotton. Aah! It was such a luxury, with no worms to gnaw on my roots and no insects to burden my arms. The children often fought over chances to water me, and the teachers praised my growth.In other words, I was spoilt. I was appalled when a lady snatched me away from my haven in the classroom and deposited me in her garden. I was devastated. Nobody ever visited me except a grumpy gardener who gave me water once a day. The other trees and plants never said anything, and for a while I thought that they were ganging up on me. I was still young and never saw anything as my view was blocked by a tree in front of me. I missed my perch on the window sill.Then one day,a disaster occurred. The house in the garden caught fire. Thankfully, I was out of danger zone but I was frightened. Luckily, I was not hurt much, but the other plants were. For the first time, I stopped thinking of myself, but thought of others. I tipped my leaves so they could quench their thirst with dew. I stopped wilting and grew strong and tall, much to the gardener's joy. My foliage hung over the garden and my fruits brought the lady wealth. I became caring. Along with wealth, my mangoes also attracted queer visitors. Some needed, some unwanted.The woodcutter in that evening, his axe hanging loosely by his side,I knew he was not to be trusted. In fact, now that I think about it, his whole outfit was brown, due to the forest dirt than his favour.He pushed through the gate and made his way to the gardener, conveniently squashing some of the young herbs on the way. The gardener was watering the roses. On hearing the noise of twigs snapping, he turned, his eyes widening at the path of destruction this unknown guest was leaving. [Smiling for the sake of it], he asked, "Apples, mangoes, or bananas? The mangoes are the sweetest in the country! And the apples! Oh, they make the most prideful salivate. And the bananas…”The woodcutter cut him off. Eyeing the gardener doubtfully, he said, "You are the owner?""Of what, sir?" "The garden of course!" "No sir, just the gardener." "Hmph.Thought so. You don't look like much." "Of course, sir." Anyone could have heard the sarcasm in his voice. Except the woodcutter. "Is he around, then?" "Who? Sir." "Not so sharp, are you? The owner." "She is not around, no. May I pass the message?" "No, you may not. I have a secret for you. You can keep it, can't you?" "But of course. Go on." "Sure? Well, then you know what a woodcutter is?That's me.And that mango tree there,its wood will bring more money than it's fruit. So here's some money, now clear off.I will give you more when the job's done."