The Guava tree

I cannot understand
my old guava tree…
I really cannot understand
its total lack of attitude.
I have not seen
a more unselfconscious tree
in my life.
My guava tree is scrawny
with tattered leaves
and bent, deformed branches.
Peels of skin come out,
off its thin trunk.
It is always laden with fruits;
its branches droop low, deliberately,
to help the urchins
pick its fruits.
This happy-go-lucky tree
bears small guavas in the rains
and big juicy ones in the winters
and small sad ones
in the hot dry summers.
No other guava tree I know
is so charitable, so magnanimous, so giving.
This tree of mine loves children-
a bunch of rowdy kids
can be seen hanging on its branches
throughout the day.
In the morning, when the children
are asleep, or in schools,
it attracts a huge pack
of screeching parrots and chattering monkeys-
(a thoroughly disreputable lot)
who eat and waste and throw
a lot of guavas,
and create a big mess.
The tree cares little
about its health, or reputation.
The rose shrubs and the berries
and even the paternal banyan
complain of its lack of judgment
its total absence of attitude.
My guava tree reminds me
of my grandmother,
who had a lot of children of her own
and whose doors
were open for all.
But then, she lived in an age
when attitude was yet to be discovered.
I often wonder, whether
I should cut the guava tree
and plant an apple or a nut tree-
they will not give much fruits
in the tropics, but would look graceful.
But then, always,
I remember my grandma
and desist.
I wistfully wait for the day
when my guava tree
becomes snooty and elegant
and gives less fruits,
and hides those from the scum,
behind healthy green leaves,
and acquires some attitude.

About Abhishek

I will let the blog speak for itself...or, at times, for me. View all posts by Abhishek

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