The Nostalgic Tamarind

 Nostalgia brings a mix of both sportive as well as staid modalities at a time. This morning was full of life and induced me unfold the closed doors of memories in its depth. The reason was the solicitation sent to the memories by an image that showed the picture of one of the most famous dams, just before it getting filled. Now, it is filled with water and a drought is no longer anticipated, that site could never be probable again. Though this image has nothing to do with my memories, it has brought back another vista to my memory that will never appear in front of my eyes again. It’s a panorama that often came out without any benignity and without considering my inclination to hide it in the invisibility of my mind. It stimulated a sensation that my heart is very delicate, despite my desire for it to have the appearance of a very bold personality.

The scenery was of the big tamarind tree that stood in our courtyard when I was a child. The big tree with small leaves that oscillated in the breeze and tamarind fruits that waited for the arrival of a wind to prove that even we can hover. The hugeness of the tree caused me to have the pleasure of only a long sight of its branches with those beautiful leaves and tamarind fruits. As all my friends were visiting their paternal and maternal houses during the school vacation, I made it a routine to visit the tree in the vehicle of loneliness with the ticket of sorrow given by my mom. I wanted to believe that like me, the tamarind tree also is alone and my presence will make her happy, but I was wrong. The tree had the company of thousands of ants, hundreds of small birds and bats and a big king fisher. With this much of companions around, the tree didn't even look at me and I felt much lonelier.

I kept my efforts to talk to the tree, but she was adamant and never replied. To console my mind, I tried to convince it by saying that the ear of the tree is in its ears, but my mind never seemed convinced. In spite of her ignorance, I never stopped visiting her and in the cooling of her shadow and in the taste of the tamarind fruit that fell down from the tree I often fell asleep beneath the tree. While sleeping, many a times I was aimed by mom’s wrath and was hit by the stick of the tamarind tree to show yet another face of the tamarind tree. To save me from the loneliness and the red-hot climate of the summer, the rains visited me along with my friends. While I was walking towards my friends assisted by the rains, I hid all my dislikes towards the tamarind tree that ignored me for last 60 days.

At last one day, I bid good bye to the slavery named school and bondage named uniform and walked towards the freedom named college and miracle named marriage. On these ecstasies of freedom and miracle, the tamarind tree never visited me even in my dreams and I never thought about her. After a few years, on a regular visit to my parents, when I felt too hot, I asked my mom for the reason and she told me about the dismemberment of the tamarind tree.  While listening to my mom, I could realize the depth of care, taste, nip and consolation given by the tamarind tree. Without uttering even a single word, without hearing anything from my loneliness, the tree was taking care of me. In severe pain, I recognized that I won’t see her again.  Despite my intense desire to see it again, I christened it as an impossible vision and hid its memory wrapping it with the blanket of forgetfulness.