And the Neem Tree said…

There I was, a young sapling growing free and wild

Looking into the balcony of a mother and child.

In a vacant lot, with other  trees older than I,

We grew in abandon trying to grow our branches high.

Once a brush fire set off a panic among us,

But the child’s worried tears stopped our fuss.

We were surprised and happy that she cared

And her prayers for our safety even her mother shared.

The fire dimmed and died out soon

Rains set in like a heaven sent boon.

Then one morning a year ago, on Raakhi day,

The tree-crusher machine inched up our way.

Crunch! As I heard the bushes and branches snap

I could feel the strength from me sap.

It was a school day and the child was away,

Who would send a prayer my way?

Then she appeared on the balcony and stared

It was the mother, towel-turbaned and teeth-bared.

I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry in fear

When she screamed out to the tree crushers, loud and clear

Her voice carried over the din of the mean machine

And her wild pleas, and folded hands were finally seen.

Leave the Neem tree alone and let it purify the air,

Please leave it and let it grow, we really do care!

As she told them I was home for the birds,

They actually paid heed to her words.

They left me alone, and noisily went away,

Leaving me to live and see another Raakhi day.

And the child said “Thanks Mimi, you’re a crazy mother

But you are now officially the Neem tree’s brother.

So I still stand, a young Neem tree growing free and wild

Looking into the balcony of the mother and child.

A Raksha Bandhan story of a different sort

Lost it have I?

Been wondering what it is that makes me lose stuff. Why is it that I am forever scrambling to find my car keys, house keys, cell phones, hairbrush, scissors etc. and why do I lose things on such a regular basis? What makes me Amnesia personified on two feet? Not only do I drive people around the bend having them search for my things but I also send the divine into a tizzy. This in the form of frenzied invocations in Sanskrit slokas for Amarnath’s Bhole to prayers in the Queen’s English for St Anthony asking him to please please come down because something is lost, and can't be found.

Sometimes it doesn’t work and what’s lost is never found like the cellphone (yes another ancient that was a prequel to the iSmash), house keys, a favorite writing implement, driving license etc.

And sometimes it works – like when the security guards at office found my wallet with its entire content that validate and confirm my existence on paper (this included the new driving license that my father effortlessly facilitated, saving me from the excessive trauma one undergoes when trying to procure a government issued document).

I did try and blame my losses on a colleague in office and the kid at home, claiming that they were last seen around the lost objects. While the former said she sold all the items in the black market, the latter threw off all allegations. The rest squarely blame me.

“You’re plain careless.”

“You’re not organized.”

“You’re hyper.”

“You think too much.”

“You try to do too much.”

 “You’re growing old – it’s a natural process of decay.”

“Alzheimer’s?”

All of the above?

Or it could be the car – it’s eating up things that I leave locked inside it. Scrunch, scrunch and it’s gone!

Then there’s the WWW consoling us that we are not the only ones with all the above or menacingly attributing the memory lapses to some incurable unique degeneration of the self. After being told (again) that I think too much and that possibly much more than the mandatory six impossible things were crowding my brains and cramping my memory, I wondered if I was possibly attention deficit ( the WWW informs me adult ADHD exists). Just for grins sake, I took an online test that proclaimed “Mild ADHD possible”. Drat! Just a ‘mild’ and ‘maybe’ and not even a worthy enough reason that could justify to all around that it is not my fault?

Meanwhile, I lost my Sodexho coupons...