The Old Banyan Tree
The mighty banyan tree on the road side
Sitting like a solitary chronicler
Has risen above the ground by a hundred feet,
Since decades ago
A seed was dropped by a bird
As it flew over.
More of the roots have come down
From its strong branches
Developing firmly into trunks
All deep inside the ground.
The children have swung
Holding the roots hanging above.
The lovers from the nearby village
Have hid inside its trunk in the nights.
The tree has heard the long breaths
Of many tired travelers lying underneath.
Shocked villagers have rested there
After returning from the funeral site nearby.
The family is now stretched
Over a large patch of land
Kinships of birds, bees and monkeys
Have grown there for generations.
Living long for few centuries
The old tree has withered;
White ants and other insects
Have made the big body hollow.
The birds, bees and monkeys
Have shifted to the younger trees,
Having more shades and softer leaves,
And with stronger branches.
May be, a slight strong wind
Would uproot the old trunk!
Yet no one would miss it
Since it would be still there
In the living memory of young trees.