Gone Is The Tamarind Tree

The bus door leads me onto the road beside the school gates. It also leads to the blinding lights of a speeding vehicle slamming to a stop. That, along with the lightning overhead, all leave me reeling for a moment. I curse under my breath while passing the car bellowing in rage and enter the college.

The first thing I notice is the tamarind tree, bursting with delectably sour treats. I pluck a few for my folks and move on, a smile firmly planted across my lips. The tree always manages to do that. I skip the packed badminton court, pausing only to smash a stray shuttle towards Jay. The last thing I see is his face bursting into a bloom of pink orchids.

Class is already in session, and the place is too noisy to process anything. Nerida waves a hello which I kindly return, but the noise is too much for anything more. The teacher’s gaze shifts towards me and suddenly, the class is a grave of young corpses.

“What are you discussing, Ninad?” booms her gaping maw.

Before I can respond, the bell rings and everyone simply walks off. Nerida disappears in the crowd.

I peek into the adjoining classrooms, lit by the scatters of the projector, reflecting dreamy dust before the students’ eyes, unnoticed by the teacher’s mechanical routine of flailing arms around. The other classes echo the same image, and I do mean ‘image’ – the students, the projector, all frozen at the precipice of oblivion. Only the teachers flail wildly like puppets.

I look around, and the hallway is quiet. Devoid of live bodies, ghosts, the wind and the shadows. The window overlooking the court shows Jay still playing, open head bleeding flower blossoms. The tamarind tree begins to shed its leaves, the bark shrivelling away and that’s when a feeling strikes me.

There isn’t much time left.

Spurred by the moment, I rush up the endless spiral of stairs, frustrated. This time, the lightning zaps me from the sky, nearly sending me tumbling down. Recovering, I jump the guard rail and land in the library as its walls lay uprooted and chairs stand spinning.

Up the cabinets, up the ledge and I reach the terrace, just before the final leaf falls off the tree.

For once the world bends to my desparate will. Rather than being shed, it stays frozen, and I spot Nerida sitting on a chair overlooking the tree and the fracturing sun.

I slump in a chair beside her.

“This is a dream, isn’t it?” she says.

I nod and ask back, “But whose dream is it? Yours, or mine?”

After about a minute of silence, she begins, “The present. A snapshot of all that is and all that should be. That’s what I wanted and now, I cannot face it. I have paid too dearly and now I can’t get it back. When that last leaf falls, gone will be the Tamarind Tree, and so will I.”

“The sky screams no.”

“For you. You’ll wake up like its nothing.”

“What if I refuse?”

I move towards her, cup her delicate face in my hands, and state with stern resolve, “I’ll stay here with you. You shall not fade and I shall not wake, not until we see the tree bloom once again.”

I hold her, just like that, then step back and pull out a tamarind I’d picked up.

“We’ll probably be waiting a while. Want a treat?” A smile broadens and brightens her face and as we sit, a new leaf sprouts from the tree.