I wonder what this bee wants with me. I don’t think it wishes to sting me, but it’s flying too close to me for my comfort. I never invited it in when I went to collect the morning paper. It’s been whizzing past me ever since, not letting me concentrate on the news. Finally, it comes down and perches on the newspaper next to my right thumb. I throw away the newspaper in alarm and run out into the balcony. The bee follows me and disappears somewhere inside the tree facing me from the street. The tree is in full bloom. Like the bee, I don’t know the name of the flowers, but they are lovely to watch. I stare at them as they softly glow under the autumn sun. Quite oblivious of newspapers. I think the bee has accomplished its mission.
I have seen the tree since it was a baby sapling planted by the municipal corporation. We have grown old together.
On the tree bloomed beautiful multi-coloured flowers. Red and yellow. The flowers smiled, surrounded by shiny green leaves.
Like a pretty girl I often saw on my way to office. With her mother, she used to sell roasted peanuts in a street corner, wearing threadbare clothes. Which indicated a hand to mouth existence.
The tree grew large and its branches threatened to penetrate my first floor window. I informed the municipality and had it cut down to size. But its trunk managed to keep standing where it had been planted. Soon it grew new branches and began to flower again. It had drowned its roots way down deep under the pavement.
The pretty little girl who used to sell roasted peanuts on the streets must have grown up too. Beyond her threadbare clothes.
Most probably, parts of her were chopped off as well. But, being rootless, she stands there no more.
