The cherry tree planted in her memory has grown big enough to shelter little birds when they are tired of learning to fly. Hopefully, next year some flowers will bloom and fresh cherries will serve appealing feast to these birds. [break]
The bright side is that a life was gone but a new life has grown. I never knew Maria and how could I? She was a girl born in Africa and was studying in a Japanese university, the same university where I went to attend a conference for a couple of days as a guest.
The conference has blurred in my mind but the memory note in the tree trunk “You are still alive” is still vivid. Life is like a flame of a candle that vanishes when wind chooses its way through it.
Where does the flame go? This remains unanswered. It’s simply gone but Maria is not, she is breathing and making others breathe. She is alive through the chirping birds, the mesmerizing cherry flowers and aromatic ripen fruits.
In an article contest, an interesting story from Nepal written by Subodh Gautam was winning numerous votes. Going through this piece, I thought of Maria once again.
In the Himalayan community of Nepal, a tree dies for every human born. Everywhere a child birth is celebrated as a pride and in most societies much more if it’s a son.
No exception applies to this land of the Himalayas. In any case a tree dies to be placed on the sides of the door, to the right if it’s a boy and left if it’s a girl. I was bound to compare how a new life was welcomed with death of the other and death of Maria in the campus was sprouting a new life.
In Hindu culture funeral pyre is lit up to transform the dead to nirvana. In the other scene a tree has been slaughtered. I don’t have hard feelings against religious values and norms but the nature blues prevail as this continues over time. Death is inevitable and so is new life.
Life is a stage and human are mere actors, as Shakespeare had said. We just step in and leave the theatre as the curtain falls down on us. We will continue doing so.
No wonder, we cannot compensate human demise by any means. But, can’t we remunerate the loss of nature? Can’t we pay tribute to the deceased ones by planting a tree in their memory? We can invite monsoon sooner, rejoice the wandering birds and get rid of the alarming environmental despair.
The ones who passed away is gone, we can at least live in an illusions that they are breathing in a different form. What’s wrong in accepting the tranquil illusion that Maria is still alive?
The writer is a student of comparative development at The University of Trento in Italy.
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