Tree of Memories

Poem by Debasish Mishra

As children we ran barefoot in the backyard and carved 

our memories in a huge peepal in a code known only to ourselves 

Each of us had a different space in the trunk, as vacant as the sky, where we unleashed our secrets shared between the tree and us 

I wrote my love for my father when I crossed the line against his instructions and he was upset with the mischiefs of my milk teeth  

I also recall how I unspooled my hatred for the bespectacled teacher who made a chicken out of me for an entire class to feed on  

The humiliation was quietly absorbed by the humility of the gentle tree  Anger and adulation were all welcomed in its hospitable trunk  

Years later, when I revisited the place I ran my brown fingers on the braille of the tree as if I was playing an antique melody on an old piano  

The memories flashed before me bright shadows of bygone time  

which enlivened my childhood with glimpses of a sepia tint  

I wish I had carried the tree with me 

If only trees had feet or wheels  

for mobility, my memories  

would not have been orphaned 

Cut to the present day, the land  

has been auctioned with all its richness 

I hear the noise of a relentless axe 

grinding the wood and the words 

The tree burdened with a million 

memories has perhaps been upended 

and hewn to a heap of logs  

which would end in some fireplace  

Some benevolent man has bought  

this piece of land to build a temple  

I wonder, which god on earth 

                     would rise over the debris of memories