The Cursed Tree : Part I

Ravi's gaze wandered to the majestic White Champa tree standing sentinel at the border of their garden. Its branches, like nature's own sculpture, stretched towards the sky, yet remained barren, devoid of even a single bloom.

"Why does this tree never flower?" Ravi wondered, his curiosity piqued.

As a 15-year-old, Ravi had grown up in this small town, surrounded by colonial-style bungalows with lush gardens. He had spent countless hours playing with his friends, exploring the outdoors, and learning the art of gardening from the family's trusted gardener.

Ravi's parents had always assumed he would follow in their footsteps and pursue a career in biology. However, Ravi's true passion lay in psychology. He often found himself pondering the mysteries of the human mind, and now, he couldn't help but wonder: did plants, too, possess a hidden psychology?

On this particular morning, he was just sitting in the garden, reading some novel when this White Champa tree caught his attention.

Sitting there he recalled that all his childhood he has never seen the tree blooming!

He wondered "why doesn't this tree ever bloom!"

Ravi felt concerned.

He got up and went near the tree and observed all the other blooming plants and trees.

The Champa Tree was at a perfect position where it would get proper sunlight, fertilisers to the soil and watering was regularly taken care of, yet, the tree never bloomed.

Ravi determined to observe the White Champa tree. He started noting down his observations as a routine. For weeks together he continued with the same. He also clicked photographs of the tree to compare its appearance in different seasons and at different time of the day.

But as his final exams approached, he was engrossed into studies and almost forgot about the Tree.

During his vacations, Ravi’s Grandmother visited them.

One fine morning, when Aaji was taking a tour in the garden Ravi happily joined her. Afterall Aaji was the original creator of that garden and spending time with her in garden was something that Ravi found delightful.

When they reached the White Champa Tree, Ravi suddenly remembered that he had taken a task which was still incomplete. He decided to share his curiosity with his grandmother. 

Ravi questioned her, "Aaji, what is the matter with this White Champa Tree?"

Aaji was surprised, as she was did not expected that question coming.

"What?" She reacted.

"You wait here" Ravi directed her and rushed to his room. He came with his notes and photos. Presenting all that to her, he whispered, "For weeks together I have been observing this tree. My basic curiosity is why it does not give even a single Flower?"

Aaji was going through the notes. She was quite overwhelmed with Ravi’s research.

Looking at the pictures she said, "Ravi, I really appreciate your observation. It is true that this White Champa tree has never bloomed."

Aaji's expression turned somber, and she began to recount the tale of the Bhat family, who had once lived in the house next door.

"Why is it so?" Ravi interrupted her thought process “what is the problem with tree?"

"Actually, there is no problem with the tree" Aaji tried to explain.

"Many years ago," Aaji started, "the Bhat’s stayed here in the neighbouring house. They were a happy family. But there stars changed and tragedy struck when unanticipated bad things started happening with them. The family was devastated."

As Aaji continued the story, Ravi listened intently, his imagination conjuring images of the Bhat family's joy and sorrow.

“Chitra, a bright and curious six-year-old, was the loving daughter of Govind and Geeta Bhat. Her grandfather, Mr. Bhat, had passed away in a tragic accident. Chitra's grandmother, Mrs. Bhat, adored her. The White Champa Tree in their garden was Chitra's haven, her favorite spot to play and explore. She would spend hours beneath its shade, laughing and imagining. Even on rain-soaked days, Chitra would sit under the tree, finding joy in its tranquility.

On one such day, as the rain poured down, Chitra sought refuge under the tree. Coincidentally, the tree had sprouted its first bud, and Chitra, eager to protect it, was trying to shield it from the rain. But fate had other plans. A sudden lightning strike took Chitra's life, leaving her lying lifeless beneath the tree.”

Aaji's voice cracked with emotion as she recounted the story. "Chitra's mother, Geeta, was never the same after that fateful day. She became catatonic, and her husband, Govind, was consumed by grief. The family's happiness was replaced with sorrow and anger. Mrs. Bhat, overwhelmed by her loss, rushed to the tree, her anger and grief boiling over, with a blaring voice she alleged "As my beloved Chitra loved you (Champa tree) and lost her life protecting the life blooming in you I curse you that you (Champa tree) will never bloom again!" The intensity of her emotions proved too much, and Mrs. Bhat succumbed to a heart attack, leaving her life at the same place where her beloved Chitra was lying lifeless.”

Ravi was speechless, unsure of how to respond. An uncomfortable silence hung in the air until he finally mustered the courage to ask, "What happened to the bud? Did it ever bloom?"

Aaji's eyes clouded over, still feeling the pain of Chitra and Mrs. Bhat's demise. With a sorrowful murmur, she replied, "No... The day Chitra died, the White Champa Tree shaded its only bud, and from that day on, it has never bloomed."

Aaji's voice trailed off, lost in thought. After a moment, she continued, "If only trees could speak our language, or if we could understand the language of nature, we would grasp the depth of this tree's sorrow. We would comprehend the anguish it has endured all these years."

Ravi stood in stunned silence, his mind reeling from the tragic tale. Aaji's worried whisper broke the spell, "Ravi, are you alright?"

He nodded, still dazed, and asked to remain alone with the White Champa Tree. Aaji understood his sentiments and left him to his thoughts.

As Ravi stood before the tree, he felt an overwhelming urge to comfort it, to absolve it of any guilt. He wrapped his arms around the trunk and whispered, "I understand your pain and sorrow. Please know it wasn't your fault. It's been years, and nothing can change what happened. You shouldn't punish yourself anymore. You have suffered enough.

Ravi's voice cracked with emotion as he continued, "I too love you as much as your beloved Chitra did. Please, start blooming again. And I want you to know that I'll love you just the same, even if you never bloom."

His words hung in the air, carried away by a gentle breeze. As Ravi looked up at the tree, he felt a glimmer of hope. Perhaps, just perhaps, the tree would finally find peace.

And so, Ravi continued to care for the tree, nurturing it with love and compassion. Though it still hadn't bloomed, Ravi knew their bond had grown stronger.

As he sat beneath the tree's branches, Ravi realized that the true magic lay not in the tree's blooms, but in the connection they made, the love they shared, and the lessons they learned along the way.