The Tree That Stopped Singing

Every day, when I pray in the Samadhi in the Ashram, I try to focus and count the different bird sounds I can hear. From the near to the faint and distant. If the mood and ears permit, I not only count the different sounds but also how many of the same species too. 

This is a good way, I figured, to help me focus and identify different sounds. It's another matter that although I hear these birds almost every day - I yet don't know the names of some of these birds based on their calls.

These birds, most of them, have built their home on the auspicious Service Tree that oversees the Samadhi. This tree has been the natural cover over the samadhi for as long as I can remember. In the last decade or so, it has unfortunately been causing a lot of problems. 

The tree has been leaning towards the Samadhi almost as if bowing its head on to it. This is what usually happens when the roots of a tree grow in one direction and cannot grow any more on the other. Due to this, there were strong reinforcements built around the Samadhi to support heavy branches of the tree. And even these concrete structures are slowly bending with years of incessant pressure from the branches.

What also happened during a strong hurricane was that the tree started to bend so much that part of its roots started to come out of the ground, and the cement around the Samadhi was permanently dislodged. 

The tree nevertheless yet stood there, not tall but bent slightly, but ever so lively and happy to give cover to the Samadhi.

It's in this condition that some tree cutting experts from the Auroville were summoned, to assess how to pause the damage for a while. The decision was made to trim the tree and reduce the pressure and weight where possible.

So for the next 4 days, carefully and precisely, a trimming was done. It made the tree look younger than it was, the foliage not as lush, but good enough to cover the Samadhi and around it too. 

But this genuine attempt of saving the tree, had stopped the tree from singing.

Gone were the birds that were housed here, gone were the incessant morning birdy chatter, gone were the calls and conversations, gone was the singing. The tree stood there as silent as the Samadhi itself.

And I felt strange. So used was I to the counting of these bird calls that the silence bothered me. Although silence is expected, this silence was eerie, awkward and strange. 

It felt like a depressed tree which refused to speak after an unpermitted trim. Imagine going to the beach everyday and listening to the sound of the waves and suddenly, one fine day, staring at silence. No waves, no splash. That's how strange this felt.

But I went about my way, and just like that, in less than a week's time, on seeing that the 'work' was done, the birds returned. The tree sprang back to its chirpy self. 

And it felt joyful. All the birds seemed to have a lot of catching up to do, the singing louder, the chatter more animated, the calls more pronounced. Maybe it was because there was less foliage, the sound was clearer, or maybe the birds were just happy to return to their spiritual abode.

It struck me how a simple act of trimming could silence something so natural - as birds singing.

This natural cacophony of calls became a ritual focal point of my quietude and its sudden disappearance not only disrupted my 'silence' but also made me realize how even 'noise' at times, can give comfort and become an echoing refrain in one's meditation.

I missed the tree singing. It felt strange, I felt a part of me missing - like missing a regular breakfast. It felt very uncomfortable. And then the singing began, and for a short while, I shared the same joy of the birds. I reveled in their happiness, enjoyed and shared their animated expressions to the return of normalcy.