A tribute to a dead old tree....

On this World Environment Day

Amphan !!

The day that cute green caterpillar stopped eating, the news arrived; the earth was pregnant. From that day, over the vastness of nature the enthusiasm has been abundant. The mother earth had herself written a letter to her midwife –the mother Nature—to take care of her. That missive travelled so many distant paths in the hand of supreme Time.  Nature—the Nursing maid—jubilantly has brought the mother Earth to the birthing-room with due care and caution. It has been quite hot and humid since a few days. Gradually, Nature has chilled the care-room to comfort by spreading layers of clouds above. The divine water showers from the sky. Mother Gaia awaits with impatient fervour for the arrival of a healthy child brightening her lap.

Oh, how peaceably pretty caterpillar is sleeping inside the cocoon it has woven around. Will it not to transform into a beautiful butterfly some day? Maybe, it has chosen complete renunciation of material desires with such deep longing within. Neither any urge for food not showing any evidence of life is perceptible; as if confining the essence of all five divine air it prefers to embrace asceticism. Perhaps, the mission will only be attained with liberation of a mirthful butterfly fluttering out to the sky upon its colourful wings.

There has been just a single note of whispers here and there; the expectancy of mother Earth. Suspense of the birth of a healthy child hovers in the air. Following the schedule of time, the ache has begun to escalate. Everyone is utterly busy in Nature; everyone is ready to serve. The agony of the labour has become intense. The expressions of the pain have sketched the face of the fermented environment; everyone is shivering in crude suspense of the sweeping fury of liberation. As if entire world of creations has shut the doors and anxiously await the assault of the final moment.

Then the special moment appears. Nature breathes heavily in all trepidations within. The vastness of creations has become intensely enthused and fretfully tempestuous. The strong wind inspires trees to dance in mysterious twists and turns. The oceans and seas are impatient in prospect of the good news to reach soon. Again, and again, they ask the shore, “Has he arrived?”

Then, after ripping apart endless string of patience and endurance, piercing through the soul of the universe, evoking the world in muted reverence, stunning the core of creations, drenching all senses in fear and delight in unison, the deafening cry of the new-born is heard. The Supreme Time himself baptized him with a name of his own wishes. Ocean bathed him in her own blue water.

And, his mother? Immense, bountiful, sagacious, ever-young mother Earth is too tired after setting free an enormously vibrant form into being. She kisses her child and takes him in her lap. Nature mother sings lullaby to let both the mother and her child sleep…a little longer…after a strenuous battle.

The dawn breaks. Yet, the Sun hides himself. The mother Earth is yet to rise. The expanse of creations has gradually begun to arise and look around. The entire arena stands ravaged; almost destroyed. People, in their usual noise and voice, are engaged in assessing the quantum of loss and prospect of revival.

Oh my god! that green caterpillar has emerged as a colourful butterfly! Another child of mother Earth—able, complete, vibrant, beautiful, colourful, delightful expression of life—has blessed the world with the dreams of becoming. After a while, it shall carry the eternal message of delight of the Supreme Time fluttering over the vast expanse of destruction. With the name of the new-born of yesternight, the name of today’s new life is uttered in perfect harmony; “Amphan”